


Orange is the new sexy

by Sardonicpineapple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Crying During Sex, Dom John Watson, John is a correctional officer, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Prison Sex, Prison Smut, Prisoner Sherlock, Smut, Sub Sherlock, Teenlock, Top John Watson, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 35,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sardonicpineapple/pseuds/Sardonicpineapple
Summary: 19 year old Sherlock Holmes is sentenced to 13 months in prison. Bullied, bored and lonely, Sherlock can’t beleive his luck when a young, sexy, former soldier comes to work as a correctional officer.Edited format (both Sherlock and John’s POV per update) so we can get to the good stuff faster... ;)





	1. Bored

**Author's Note:**

> Started writing this after I couldn’t deny that CO John Bennet from OITNB is basically alternative universe John Watson. My knowledge of prison is heavily influenced by the show... hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock reviews how boring prison is, and John has his first day as a correctional officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this story!

Sherlock’s POV  
“Mr Holmes, you’re under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”  
My wrists were cuffed, and I was lead out of the house. They pushed my head down as they loaded me in to the car although I doubt it was to avoid hitting my head on the door. Like they care. I closed my eyes, and leant my head on the window as we drove, the quiet whirring of the engine and the chatter of the officers in the front of the car doing little to keep my entertained.  
That was the day I got arrested. It was a rather tedious day to be honest, as were the days that followed. It’s worse than tedious now, mind numbingly boring to be more accurate. Is it weird to find prison boring? Yes, probably. The only thing that amuses me is deducing what other people are in her for. It’s intimidating as well, of course. My first night, I’m pretty sure my roommate watched me sleep. Within a week, I’d been given a black eye for being insubordinate to one of the ‘top dogs’. I’ve been threatened, pinned against a wall, called a selection of colourful insults, and been thwacked in the ribs with a very heavy book. My counsellor says I bring it on myself.  
“Too smart for your own good.” I believe was the expression he used. “You need to stop running your mouth, and start running away from the thugs that are beating you up.”  
Two months I’ve been here now, and it’s fair to say I haven’t followed his advice. I spend most of my time in medical. I’d be on a first name basis with the medics if calling people by their first names was a thing here.  
“So what happened to you this time?”  
Doctor Hooper asks as she looks at me over her clip board.  
“One of the librarians ran in to me with a book trolly.”  
She walks over to sit in front of me, concern on her face.  
“What did you do?”  
“What makes you assume I did something?”  
She quirks her eyebrows at me, a smile playing on her lips.  
“I corrected his grammar while he was doing a dramatic reading.”  
“There you go.”  
She grins at me before getting up to rummage through the medicine cabinet.  
“Take these, and come back to me in four hours if you’re still in pain.”  
I nod as I take the painkillers from her. She checks to make sure I’ve swallowed them, then sends me on my way with a kind, albeit pointless reminder to keep my head down. I walk briskly back down to my dorm, making a brief attempt at avoiding confrontation. I may as well try.  
“Alright Holmes?”  
Mike Stamford, my bunkmate, possibly the only person here whom I don’t hate. He’s regarding me with what appears to be concern as he gets up from his bed.  
“Fine. Thank you. I’d ask what I missed but... what’s the point.”  
I grab a book from my locker and flop down on my bed.  
“Actually, apparently there’s a batch of new guards coming today. Knight overheard Lestrade talking about it.”  
I look up from my book to raise my eyebrows at him.  
“How interesting.” I say flatly.  
“Compared to yesterday it is.”  
He does have a point. The only thing noteworthy that happened yesterday was one of our fellow inmates thought that super noodles was a television show instead of a brand of dehydrated carbohydrates.  
“They should be here any minute.”  
I nod in acknowledgement before going back to reading my book. I’m opposed to new people, and new guards are no exception. After I finish my chapter, I walk down to the bathrooms. Bathrooms is a loose term. It’s primary usage appears to be a hookup spot. I advert my gaze when I notice one of the inmates from electrical with his head thrown back against the wall in pleasure. I’m always as quick as possible in here, this hell hole. In my haste I fail to notice the inmate in front of me. James Moriarty. No one is quite sure how he’s managed to land himself a place in minimum security. The rumours about what he did range from murder to petty theft. His... “creepy” persona is enough to make anyone uncomfortable. That’s not what bothers me though. What bothers me is his obsession with me.  
“Hey pretty boy.”  
“Moriarty.” I say curtly.  
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”  
His cold, beady eyes stare in to mine.  
“I don’t want to miss out on the twix in commissary again.” I lie, refusing to break eye contact.  
“Moriarty.” A voice says.  
I look past Moriarty’s shoulder, and see Mr Lestrade standing in the corridor. He’s the man in charge around here, something I’m grateful for as he’s actually a nice man.  
“Inmate, get moving.” Lestrade barks.  
Moriarty winks at me before stepping out of the doorway.  
“Sorry sir. Just having a little chat.”  
“Keep walking.”  
I relax as he walks away without a fuss.  
“Is he causing you much trouble these days?”  
“Just a few interactions such as that one.”  
I state honestly as I begin to walk back to my bunk. Lestrade follows me down to the dorm, asking a few questions, primarily about my ‘confrontation’ with the librarian. “I hear there are going to be new guards. Am I correct?”  
“Yes, Yes there are. Just got here. Now, be nice, you.” He grins.  
I nod, then depart to my bunk.  
Mike hasn’t moved. He’s lying on his bed, listening to his radio.  
“You were right about the new guards.” I tell him.  
“Fresh meat. Try and get these ones on your side before they learn of your reputation.”  
“You make it sound like I’m in here for running a gang.”  
“What are you in here for?” He asks suddenly.  
This is not the first time he’s asked this.  
“You’re not supposed to tell people that.” I say sharply. “Besides, you don’t need to know.”  
He puts his hands up in mock surrender, and puts his head phones back in. Lunch time comes around, and everyone filters in to the dining hall. Mike and I sit in the far corner with a few other inmates including Henry Knight, Billy Wiggins and Philip Anderson. I don’t like Anderson, and the feeling is one hundred percent mutual, but he hasn’t tried to shiv me yet, so the jury is still out.  
It was around the third mouthful of the pathetic excuse for casserole that I spotted one of the new guards. I’d never had one of those moments where everything just stops. Everyone else around you becomes invisible, and the only person you can see is that one person. He’s blond, average height, muscular build, tanned skin, and very, very attractive. He’s just looking around himself curiously, taking in the scenery. He isn’t jumpy or skittish like like the other young guards. It usually takes them weeks to settle down, but he seems right in his element. It’s normally only the more mature guards who settle in straight away because of past experience. Surly he’s too young for that. There’s a reason why he’s so calm though. There must be.  
“Ok, that’s it. What the fuck are you looking at?”  
I glance up at Wiggins who’s sitting opposite me.  
“Nothing.” I say quickly, adverting my gaze from the new guard, and shovelling more ‘casserole’ in to my mouth.  
“Oh, that’s not nothing.”  
He’s followed my gaze straight to the blond guard. “You gay, Holmes?”  
“That would imply he has sexual urges. Robots don’t have urges.” Anderson quips.  
I don’t say anything and continue to force myself to eat. The guards switch posts before I have a chance to go back to... observing... him. After lunch, I quickly go back to my bunk. I read for a little, a simple pass time to stop me from going mad. Mike comes back shortly after and submerges himself in a radio show. I look up at the clock. Work duty. I put on my jacket, and hightail it outside. I don’t mind working in the garden. Horticulture is something that has always peaked my interest. Of course I’d much rather something more interesting than squash, but what are you going to do? I sign out a rake, and get to turning the soil. It’s not exactly very mentally stimulating, but physical exertion is the only option I have right now. God, prison is dull.

John’s POV  
New job. First day at a new job. That’s what I have to look forward to. That’s why I’ll get out of bed. That’s why I’ll get through today. I repeat this to myself as I climb out of bed, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast and drive to work. I can do this. I can do this.  
“CO Watson. Your fist assignment is the cafeteria. Go with CO Mary. She’ll look after you.”  
I turn to look at the blonde woman next to me. She smiles, and extends her hand out to me.  
“Rosamund. You can call me Rosie.”  
“John.” I say with a smile.  
I follow her down the corridor and in to the cafeteria. It’s a decent sized room with benches and tables, a serving line, and five dozen inmates at least.  
“Basically, we stand here and tell them they can’t take food out of here, and to keep the noise down. It’s normally quite calm.”  
I nod my head in understanding.  
“So, how comes you’ve ended up in this hell pit?” Rosie teases after a moment.  
“To put myself through medical school.”  
Which is true, but I chose being a correctional officer for a reason. I need something invigorating. Something exciting.  
“What about you?” I ask out of curtesy.  
“I saw an ad in the paper.” She chuckles.  
Not much happens throughout the day, a few scuffles, name calling, etc. Hopefully something more entertaining comes along.


	2. The blond guard and the woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John have their first interaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so much for the lovely comments! Hope you enjoy!

Sherlock’s POV  
The second time I see the blond guard, it’s in the common room. He’s distracted this time, so I have the opportunity to observe him properly. His shirt still doesn’t have his name, so ‘blond guard’ will have to do. I allow my eyes to wander, scanning down his form. The way he stands... the way he does his hair... Ah... that explains it. I grin to myself, and walk back to the dorms.  
“Looking forward to visitation tomorrow?”  
Visitation is an opportunity for inmates to see their family, and catch up. For me, it’s half an hour of my older brother degrading and patronising me.  
“No.” I say tersely.  
Mike shrugs me off, and goes back to poking at something in a tub with electric cables attached.  
“Parents... mycroft...?”  
“The worse of two evils.”  
“Ah.”  
I inhale indignantly, and jump up to see what he’s doing with the box.  
“Soup?”  
“Yeah. You want some?”  
I look down at the brown liquid.  
“It’s miso.”  
“Yes, alright then. Thank you.”  
I lean against the wall as I wait patiently.  
“The new guard is a military man.”  
Mike looks up from his soup.  
“How do you know- ok, never mind. You know everything. Ok, not everything.” He adds when I open my mouth to contradict him.  
“Why are you so interested in him anyway?”  
“I’m not.” I snap. “I just like to observe.”  
“Mmmm...” he says, not convinced.  
I chew the inside of my cheek, and flop back on to my bed. I don’t need to piss off the people who don’t hate me, even I know that. The guard is gone by dinner time. There is another new guard, a woman. I’m not getting anything from her, and it’s... unsettling. She appears to be the focus of a lot of the other inmates. She fits the traditional beauty standards, I suppose. She’s of no interest to me though. I continue with my book, slowing my pace as I’ve only a few chapters left. I may as well ask Mycroft tomorrow to post me some new books instead of calling my parents, and wasting my phone credit. Despite my best attempts, I’ve finished the book by lights out. Bother. There are of course books in the library, but the contents of which are all very mundane. I assume the new guard will be here tomorrow. It would be weird to make him start on a Friday, and then not make him work on Saturday, even though it is by far the hardest day. I eventually fall asleep. Boredom is a wonderful sedative.

John’s POV  
“So how did you find yesterday?”  
I look up from the radio I’m desperately trying to attach to my shoulder and shrug.  
“It was alright, actually.”  
“Well, you’ll definitely enjoy today.” She says with amusement.  
“Oh yeah?”  
“Yep. It can get crazy on visitation day. Saying that, you might get put in the bubble, and miss all the action.”  
I feel her watching me for a moment before she lets out a sigh and jumps down from the table she was perched on.  
“Come here. Let me do that for you.”  
I walk over, and watch as she seemingly effortlessly attaches the radio. She’s very close to me right now. I can smell her perfume, and her shampoo.  
“Thanks.” I say somewhat cautiously when she steps back.  
“No problem. You’ll get the hang of it.”  
She smiles warmly at me before exiting the room. I follow her a few paces behind down to the warden’s office.  
“Ok, just you four left. Mary, visitation room; Adler, cafeteria; Donovan, Kitchen, and Watson, I want you in the bubble in B dorm.”  
We all nod, and march off to our assigned posts. ‘The bubble’ is a room with a glass window from where a CO watches the inmates in their dorm. From what Rosie has said, it’s a lot of sitting down, but it’s up to you to stop any confrontation, and if anything happens, you are responsible, and only you. Before we all go our separate ways, Rosie hands me an energy bar and a crossword.  
“So you don’t chew your arm off.”  
I don’t know whether she means from boredom or hunger. Both?  
I slump down in the chair, and take to the cross word. No one is doing anything of importance from what I can see, just getting ready for visitation. I look up every now and then to keep an eye on things, but nothing catches my attention. A few hours later, I get up to stretch my legs, and take a walk around the dorm. Everything seems in order, so I go to head back to the bubble when I see a book lying on the floor.  
‘The origin of species’.  
“Ummm... do you know who’s book this is?” I ask one of the inmates.  
“I believe that’s mine.”


	3. something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John get to know each other l.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy!

Sherlock POV  
“Well then, brother mine. How are you faring?”  
“I’m in prison, how do you think?”  
My older brother stares down his hook nose at me with his beady eyes, a smirk playing at his lips.  
“Still bored I see.”  
“Yes, and now I have no books.” I say flatly.  
“Is this a request for me to post you some?”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, then you might want to try saying please.” He says with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows.  
“Please.” I say, trying as hard as I can to keep the venom out of my voice.  
“Of course. Is there anything you wish for me to report to mummy and daddy?”  
“Will it stop them coming down here?”  
He smirks, confirming my assumptions that no, no it won’t stop them.  
“Then no.”  
We engage in a few more minutes of pointless conversation before the two minute warning.  
“Alright then, I had better go. I will see you next week.”  
“Yes.” I say, gladly excepting his handshake.  
I won’t go so far as hugging him, but i have grown to miss human contact over these last few weeks. That is just one item on the list of things I never thought I’d say, along with ‘stop hogging the corn nuts!’, because the food is terrible, and I’ve been reduced to a person who... eats corn nuts. After I’m searched, I go back to my dorm. There’s a guard in front of my cube, holding a book, my book.  
“I believe that’s mine.”  
The guard turns around, and I come face to face with him. The blond guard. Oh, he’s even more gorgeous up close. His eyes are a deep, stormy blue, his skin is a warm, tanned hue, his lips are thin and pink... his lips... I look back up at his eyes. He hasn’t broken focus. He’s still looking at me.  
“Can I have my book?” I say a little more bluntly than I meant to, but I feel as though my brain has been dropped in a vat of ice water, and whatever filter I had has crumbled. He blinks a few times, either snapping from a daze or taken aback.  
“Oh, Sure. Here.”  
He clears his throat, and corrects his posture before handing the book over, gently brushing my fingers in the process. It’s not like how they describe it in the books. It’s not electric, it doesn’t make my heart skip a beat, the Earth doesn’t stop, but it’s something. Something.  
I swallow, and take the book. He nods, and turns to walk away. He has a slight limp as he marches back to the bubble. This observation just adds confirmation to my earlier deduction. I wobble back in to my cube, ever so slightly light headed, and beating myself up for being so blunt with him. Why am I such an asshole?

 

John’s POV  
“I believe that’s mine.”  
A mellifluous voice says from behind me. I turn, and lock eyes with a bright, blue eyed young man. I find myself unable to speak, my words catching in my throat, unwilling to be spoken.  
“Can I have my book?”  
His request snaps me from my daze, reminding me that I’m just standing there, blinking like a complete twat.  
“Oh, Sure. Here.”  
I internally roll my eyes at my gentle tone. I mustn’t show weakness, not even if what may be the most beautiful individual I’ve ever seen is standing right in front of me... No. No weakness. No... no... I clear my throat, and straighten up. When I hand him the book, my tanned fingers come in to contact with his long, pale digits. I feel my brain threatening to short circuit again, so I quickly retract my hands, and march back to the bubble as fast as I can with my limp. I am fully aware that it’s psychosomatic, but the knowledge of this doesn’t change anything. My doctor cleared me to work, saying when it came to it, it wouldn’t actually physically stop me from doing anything, but you can’t show weakness of any kind in a place like this. No, this is not the kind of job my doctor recommended, but I knew I would lose my mind in any of the places she recommended. Gardening. Really?  
She also told me to write a blog. Write about everything that happens to me. Let’s just say, my blog page is about as empty as the chocolate isle of a supermarket on the 15th of February. Who doesn’t love sales?  
I watch the blue eyed boy as he moves around his cube, reading, pacing. He paces a lot. A few times, I think I feel him watching me in the bubble, but I never catch him looking. I get moved to the warehouse in my last hour, so I don’t see him for the rest of the day. That doesn’t mean I don’t think about him though. It occurs to me at some point during the second half of the rugby match that I don’t even know his name. That’s my mission for tomorrow.


	4. Vanilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sherlock grows accustomed to the other guards and John has a little alone time thinking about the dark haired beauty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Thanks for the comments, they really make me smile ;)

Sherlock’s POV

I watch from my bunk as the guards change shifts. CO Mary. She’s nice by other people’s standards. She talks to us like we’re people, which I suppose, is nice. She always vouches for me when I do certain things that land me in medical, at least. As I sit, I wonder where the blond guard is. I jump up from my bed, and wander out in to the common room. I patrol the prison till lunch time, then Mike all but strong arms me in to the dining hall. The guards have all switched over by the time we return to the dorms, and the blond is back in the bubble. I take sneaky glances of him as I tidy my side of the bunk. The fourth time I look up, he’s looking right back at me. I quickly advert my gaze. I feel my cheeks heating up, and a fuzzy feeling spread to my stomach. I shake my head in the comforting, albeit pointless motion of attempting to clear my thoughts. The clock on the adjacent wall reads 16:58. The showers are normally their quietest at either five am or pm, so I grab my wash stuff, and wander down the corridor. The pathetic dribble of lukewarm water isn’t exactly pleasant, but I’ll take it over the steady stream of freezing cold water in the other shower any day. When I walk out of the showers, I walk right in to something solid. That something turns out to be someone, and of course, it’s the blond guard. I step back, blinking wildly, my hands quickly reaching to hold the towel around my waist in place.  
“Watch yourself- oh. It’s you.”  
His face softens immediately, even what may be a smile tugs at his lips. His eyes quickly drop down to scan over my form, lingering for a split second on the towel covered portion.  
“Sorry, Officer.” I say with mild shock amusement.  
His eyes quickly snap back up to meet mine. They’re slightly wider than before, and his pupils are dilated. Physical attraction.  
“That’s alright, just... watch where you’re going next time.” He says calmly.  
I nod, then practically scuttle back to the dorm. I get dressed in my cube, preserving my modesty as best I can by awkwardly holding my towel as I hop in to my pants.  
“You want to go in on a tub of commissary ice cream?” Wiggins asks from over the wall.  
“Once I have underwear on, yeah, sure.”  
I finish dressing, then follow Wiggins and Mike down the corridor to commissary.  
“It’s the little pleasures, I suppose.” Mike murmurs as he shovels a spoon full of vanilla ice cream in to his mouth. The strawberry flavour tastes like medicine, and the chocolate flavour is an unsettling grey colour. Vanilla, although not very exciting, is by far the safest option.  
“I see that.” Wiggins chimes in from where he’s sat on Mike’s locker.  
“I guess everything will be like that when we get out. Going to bed whenever, eating at six o’clock, wearing what we want...” mike sighs.  
“How long have you got again?”  
“Three years done, two left.”  
“That’s rough.”  
“Yeah, well...” Mike drawls. “Now stop hogging the tub. Hand it over.” 

 

John’s POV  
Honestly, I hate people sometimes. Work was alright, but some dick on the road cut me up. I stalk in to my flat, and settle on the sofa to watch the football. After the match, I flick over to one of the porn channels. It’s one of those cringey ones with shitty dialogue and a shitty plot. That doesn’t mean its not turning me on. I watch for a little bit, but I’m very quickly distracted by images of the boy from yesterday... I still don’t know his name... but his gorgeously chiseled face is etched in to my brain. I take my aching cock in hand, and begin to pump my wrist up and down. It’s stress relief, if nothing else. I’m not even watching the television anymore; the image of the boy in only his towel is enough to have me moaning and arching my back. I bite my lip to silence myself as I cum hard, some of it going on the floor, but the majority goes in to my hand. Normally I feel relaxed and soothed after, but now I feel nothing but shame. I have to be back at work again in just under five hours. At least for now, I’ve satisfied some of my urges. 

After a power nap, it’s back in the car, and back to work. I get posted to the cafeteria just as lunch starts. The boy walks in with a group of other inmates and sits down in a table corner. He is really very attractive. I have identified as bisexual since I was 17, but I’ve never met a man in person who’s taken my fancy; not till now at least. That very person is sat no more than twenty yards away from me... and staring right at me. Normally when I catch him, he looks away, but this time, he doesn’t. Instead, he chews his bottom lip, rather coyly if I might say.  
“Watson?”  
“Mmm?” I force myself to look away, and turn to face Rosie.  
“I asked you whether you brought lunch? Because if you didn’t, they can make it in the kitchen.”  
“No, I’m alright thanks...”  
I turn my head back again when I hear a commotion coming from the far side of the room. The other inmates are jostling the blue eyed one, who’s blushing profusely. He doesn’t seem upset, embarrassed maybe, but otherwise unaffected. He’s got his head down as he comes over to bus his tray. I can’t see his ID from this angle. I can’t let him leave again.  
“Inmate. A word, please.”  
He sighs before looking up, his cheek chewed between his teeth.  
“Yes, sir?”  
I could get used to hearing him say that... not the time.  
“What was all the racket?”  
I don’t actually care, but I can’t just flat out start a normal conversation with him. Yet.


	5. William Sherlock Scott Holmes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John get to know each other a littl better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed the format, so there is an additional update from Johns POV in the last chapter. The inspiration for this chapter came from when Sherlock gets his words jumbled up when talking to Irene in ASIB

SHERLOCK’S POV

I don’t want to go to lunch. I’m not hungry. I never really am, and yet I find myself being dragged along to lunch everyday. Although, now of course, I have a reason. The guard is standing by the wall, standing straight, hands behind his back, eyes forward. He really is a military man...   
I let out a shaky breath before tearing my eyes off him and walking over to sit with Mike and the others.   
I don’t engage in any of the trivial chatter exchanged around the table until I’m forced in to a very much unwanted discussion by Wiggins.   
“Your guard’s back.”  
“He’s been there for the past 20 minutes. You really aren’t observant are you?”  
“Nah, but you are. Cos you like him.”   
“I simply take in my surroundings.” I drawl as I switch my gaze back to the guard in question.   
“That’s not a no.”   
It’s not long before they’re all jostling my sides and taunting me with various jabs and jibes of a certain variety. I make my leave when I can, and go to bus my tray. I keep my eyes down, not sure I’ll be able to look at the guard. No need to add to their theories by swooning. I’m about to leave when I’m called.   
“Inmate. A word, please.”   
The guard.   
I falter for a moment before looking up. He’s regarding me with a look that doesn’t read as unimpressed in the slightest. In fact, he looks rather bemused.   
“Yes, sir?”  
“What was all the racket?”   
I look over my shoulder at my grinning, stupid, dorm mates.   
“My companions are rather... boisterous.” I decide. “And I apologise for them.”  
“What was it about?”   
“They keep teasing me.”  
“What about?”  
I look in to his steely eyes, and find the next words just tumbling from my mouth before I really think about it.   
“They think that I fancy you.”   
Oh god, why did I say that?  
I’m afraid to meet his gaze again, instead choosing to stare down at my shoes.   
“You do though, don’t you?”   
I whip my head up upon hearing his words, and see that he’s smiling, nay, smirking.   
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. This has never happened to me before, lord knows I always have something to say, and yet here I am, speechless. He’s running his eyes over me when I manage to collect my brain cells, his lip drawn between his teeth in a crooked grin.   
“Catch you later. Holmes.”  
That’s the first time he’s said my name. I can’t help but notice a certain warmth in my cheeks as I watch him walk away.   
What is happening to me?

 

JOHN’S POV

I took a chance. I took a chance, and I think it went well. I keep an eye out for him throughout the day as I move from post to post. The amount of times I spot him, I wonder if he’s looking for me as well. After catching his eye in a crowded room for about the forth time, I finally see him on his own, in the garden, watering some marrows. He goes inside after a moment, and attempts to lift a bag of soil, but he seems to be struggling. I check to make sure there is another CO around to watch the other inmates before walking over to him.   
“Need a hand?”  
He looks up at me then down at the bag.   
“Yes, Alright. Thank you.”   
He follows behind me as I carry the bag out in to the garden.   
“Where do you want it?”  
“There’s fine. Thank you.”  
He stands still, hands behind his back, his eyes on the floor.   
“So... your middle name is Sherlock... how unusual.”  
He locks eyes with me and grins.   
“Yes. I actually prefer to use it in place of my first name. William is so mundane... as is Scott...”  
I grin.   
“Right, now you know all of my names, and I don’t even know your first name.”  
“Oh, right. John Watson.”  
“John Watson.” He repeats to himself. “Former soldier.”  
Wait, what did he say?  
“How did you know that?”   
He grins at me, a glint in his eyes.   
“The same way I know that your limp isn’t a genuine one, it’s psychosomatic. The events in which you obtained your injury were traumatic; Wounded in action.”   
How the fuck does he know all that...? That’s... thats...   
“Amazing.”  
He’s since dropped his gaze to the floor, but looks up again at that. He looks somewhere between flattered and confused.   
“Well, that’s not what people normally say.”  
“What do people normally say?”  
“Piss off.”   
I can’t help but chuckle, and he does too after a moment. He looks particularly gorgeous when he laughs.   
He’s right. William really is too mundane for him.


	6. Just breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hints at his issues with authority while he and knight in shining armour, John, play doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks so much for the encouragement with this story, it means a lot to me.

SHERLOCK’S POV 

‘Oh yes, help me with this heavy thing, officer’. It’s cliche and degrading, but I knew it would work. An individual, no less a former soldier, will attempt to woo a potential partner by proving physical strength. My plan, simple as it may be, proved my theory that he is on some level attracted to me.  
So... John Watson. He looks like a John, as much as anybody looks like a name...  
After work ends, it’s back inside for dinner. I sit with my involuntary choice of company, and manage to completely filter out all the nonsensical jibber jabber that goes on. After dinner, I head back to my cube via the library. I can’t wait for the books mycroft claims to have posted anymore. I scan the classics for a moment till a chilling voice reaches my ears.  
“Afternoon, pretty boy.”  
Oh Christ...  
“Afternoon.”  
I turn to see Moriarty stood at the end of the row of bookcase. He winks at me. I decide to follow Dr Hooper’s advice, and not engage.  
“You know you can’t ignore me.” He drawls.  
He’s getting closer, moving down the bookcase. “And I know you don’t really want to.”  
He’s right next to me now. I can feel his breath on my cheek.  
“I’m your only source of amusement around here... because...”  
He places a hand on my shoulder, his spider like fingers caressing my skin.  
“You don’t know what I did.”  
I feel my chest constrict.  
“You can’t work it out, and it’s driving you crazy. You can’t work it out because you are like everyone else.”  
He leans in close, his breath warm against my ear.  
“Ordinary.”  
I inhale deeply and grit my teeth.  
“Maybe I am.” I mutter as I hiss out the lie. “Maybe I am ordinary. Maybe you... are smarter than me.”  
The ear splitting grin that appears on his face stirs up something inside me... something primal that probably promotes my next words.  
“But, when it comes to physical strength... you’re going on the floor... short arse.”  
Moriarty is clearly very touchy about his height, because the next thing he does, is punch me in the throat. I fall back against the bookcase, coughing and spluttering. I barely have a chance to evaluate how stupid i’m being before his hands are around my throat. It does make sense that being a smart arse is what’s getting me beaten up, but I know this is about something else... there’s no denying that. But I can’t focus on that right now, because I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Moriarty has such a tight hold on my neck that my airways are almost completely constricted. I feel like I’m screaming, but I can’t tell. I try to push him off, but my flailing arms are of little use. I feel my eyes watering and threatening to close. I can’t... I can’t-  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”  
Suddenly, the pressure on my windpipe is released and I can breathe again. I collapse against the bookcase, my head spinning, my chest heaving as my body takes in all the oxygen it can. Once my eyes open again, I see a flash of blue and khaki.  
“I asked you a fucking question!”  
Once my eyes have fully adjusted, I realise that Moriarty is now pinned to the bookcase, and the person pinning him is John.  
In my dazed state, I manage to catch a glimpse of another guard running over and hauling Moriarty away, kicking and screaming  
“Are you Alright? Sherlock?”  
I look round and meet eyes with a very concerned looking John.  
“Oh, Yes. I’m... fine.”  
He doesn’t look convinced as he crouches down next me, his eyes scanning my slumping body.  
“You don’t look fine. You need to go to medical.”  
“Honestly, I’m fine. That’s just a little harder than I like to be choked.”  
His expression changes to one of surprise and mild fear.  
“I am joking, John.” I assure him as I attempt to get up.  
“You have just been throttled.” He says, not amused.  
“I am aware of that.”  
I wobble a little, so John offers me his arm.  
“Thank you.”  
His arms are very firm...  
“Come on. Medical, and I mean it.”  
“Well then, Officer, I’d better do as you as say.  
I am fully aware that now is not the time, but there is something very, very hot about this... He still hasn’t let go of my arm, and he’s now using it to steer me down the corridor.  
“It seems to me like you have a little problem with authority.”  
“You could say that.” I murmur nonchalantly.  
John ducks his head, his lip chewed between his teeth in a grin.  
“But, change is a fine thing.”  
He smirks at my statement, then shakes his head.  
“Right, here we are. Dr Hooper?”  
I shift my weight from foot to foot, the fact that I am still holding his arm completely forgotten.  
“Oh, hello John. Is there a problem? Only  
I’m a little busy.”  
Dr Hooper turns her head over her shoulder to indicate to a young man with a black eye, holding an ice pack to the wound.  
“Obviously there’s a problem, or you wouldn’t be here... and I’m assuming Holmes is the source. Not that you’re a problem, Holmes, I just meant that-“ She cuts herself off, and pulls a face as she berates herself. She always has been a babbler.  
“What’s happened?”  
“A little... strangling incident with another inmate.”  
I grin at the simplicity of John’s words.  
“Oh, I-“  
“Dr! I’m gonna be sick!” Calls the man with the black eye.  
“Oh Christ.”  
Dr Hooper runs over to him, and hands him a bag. She walks back over, hand to her head.  
“Do you want me to have a check on him.” John says, nodding his head to me.  
I turn to look at him, my eyebrows quirked.  
“I’m a medical student.” He explains to both of us.  
I take a quick glance at him, my brain connecting a few dots.  
“Oh... so you are...”  
John tilts his head at this, but he doesn’t stay anything.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Any problems and I’ll bring him right back to you.” John assures her.  
“Alright. That alright with you Holmes?”  
How do I feel about playing doctor with John? Ecstatic, frankly, but I think a simple ‘fine’ will work here.  
“You’re a life saver. I normally have help, but the nurse is on sick leave, and no one bothered to find me a replacement.” Dr Hooper says as she hands over a first aid kit.  
John takes the kit, then leads me through to one of the rooms.  
“Right, on the bed.”  
“How forward.” I muse.  
John turns to playfully glare at me.  
“Yes, and my next words are even more so. Get your shirt off.”  
I can’t help but falter for a moment before pulling my shirt over my head by the hem, keeping the sleeves over my arms. “Let’s have a look at your neck then.”  
I don’t have to worry about twitching as his gloved fingers come in to contact with my skin, and more about letting out noises of a more erotic variety.  
“Small marks... some discolouration. Not too worried, but I do need to carry out an internal examination.”  
Is it hot in here? It feels really hot.  
“Alright, open.”  
He looks down my throat, checking for internal damage I assume.  
“Now, just your heart and blood pressure to check.”  
It’s definitely hot in here. It’s definitely hot, this bed is uncomfortable, and the polly cotton blend of my vest is very itchy. He places the blood pressure cuff around my wrist. If he takes my pulse, I’m screwed.  
“Your blood pressure is a little high.”  
Yes, doctor, why do you think that is?!  
“Now, just breathe normally.”  
Easy for you to say...  
I do my best as he presses the cold metal of the stethoscope to my chest. I can smell his rich aftershave, along with the soft note of lingering toothpaste and his shampoo. Eucalyptus, I think.  
“Elevated a little... but I think we can put that down to stress.”  
“Yes. Let’s.” 

 

JOHN’S POV 

He looks so innocent sat on the bed, his legs swinging about below him in a way I can only imagine he was able to do on chairs for a few years before getting too tall. ‘Stay professional.’ I tell myself as I bring over the flash light to check down his throat.  
“Alright, open.”  
I know he’s looking right at me as I examine him.  
I wonder what his gag reflex is like...  
Oh, I am a horrible person.  
I’m a little hot under the collar, truth be told, and his bright blue orbs watching me under hooded eyes are not helping.  
“Now just your heart and blood pressure to check.”  
Without my gloves, I can feel how soft and smooth his skin is. I can also feel how fast his pulse is palpitating.  
“Your blood pressure is a little high. Now, just breathe normally.”  
I’m not sure if I’m saying that to him or myself.  
His shoulders move back a little when I press the stethoscope to his chest. He’s toned, but not exactly muscular, with long arms and legs, giving him an overall, wiry figure.  
“Elevated, But we’ll put that down to stress.”  
“Yes. Let’s.”  
I wonder how high my heart rate is.  
I put away the equipment while Sherlock puts his shirt back on.  
“I’ll ask Dr Hooper to keep an eye on you, but other than that, I think you’ll be ok.”  
“Thank you. Do I get a lollipop for behaving so well?” He teases coyly.  
‘I can think of another thing you could suck’ I think to myself with a grin.  
God, I have got to stop watching porn.  
“Well, I’ll be off then.”  
“Right, yes.” I say, snapping back to reality.  
He hops off the bed and makes a move to leave, but he falters a moment at the doorway. He turns back to face me, and looks at me through his dark lashes with his bright cat eyes.  
“Thank you.”  
“You’ve already thanked me.” I say with a shrug.  
“Not for this.” He murmurs with a shake of his head. “For assisting me earlier with Moriarty.”  
“You mean rescuing you?”  
He sighs, and bites the inside of his cheek.  
“Fine, I’ll play ball. Yes, for rescuing me.”  
I think he’s blushing.  
Maybe it is just hot in here, but maybe it’s something else.  
“It’s no problem. Just try not get in to any brawls on the way back to your cube.”  
“If you doubt that, maybe you should walk me back...”  
Well, I can’t say no to that.  
“As a precaution.”  
I gesture to the door. He slips through with a grin on his face, and I follow close behind. I allow my eyes to drop down, scanning his form.  
Damn.  
Not only do I want to be in his company for as long as possible, but I feel a strange sense of protectiveness over him. I barely know him, although he apparently knows everything about me. “Right then, promise you will do your best to stay out of trouble.” I say with mock authority.  
“Yes sir.”  
He grins in a manner I can only describe as seductive. I might not have his gifts, but I can see he’s flirting with me. I feel a rush of excitement go through me, followed by a hollow, nagging feeling as I walk away. I can be with him here, look at him, talk to him, but then at the end of the day, I go home, and I lock him in behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I stole that line in the fight scene from TAB, and the end from OITNB.


	7. Wiley Minx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John’s relationship starts to develop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, hope it’s worth it. Enjoy!

SHERLOCK’S POV 

Falling asleep here is always difficult. Either it’s panic and fear surging through you, the sinking feeling we call loneliness, or it’s the fact that the beds are really uncomfortable.   
Falling asleep is one thing, but staying asleep is quite another.   
I’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the night, but now I am most defiantly awake, certain parts of me more than others...  
I’m no stranger to waking up with an unwanted erection, but I am new to having one due to desire.   
Now that I think of it, I do have the faintest memory of a rather erotic dream.   
Unsurprisingly, it was about John.   
I suppose the events from yesterday had something to do with it. 

“Come on. Medical, and I mean it.” 

The intensity of his words, the depth of his voice as he spoke them, the consequences entailed if I didn’t follow them... I’m sure he wouldn’t tell me off, but what if he did?  
I feel my already hard penis throb at the thought.   
I look over to Mike, who’s sound asleep. The depth of his sleeping is much alike to a log, so I don’t face any chance of waking him, but I reach into my locker for a sock to silence myself anyway. Actually, better take two. Don’t really want to make a mess.  
I place one sock over my aching shaft, and the other I ball up in to my mouth.   
I lay back, and allow my imagination to take control.   
The wonderful thing about having a mind palace is that one really can concoct the most vivid fantasies.   
I think of John in his uniform, although the shirt is a little tighter, clinging to his developed muscles as I begin to pump my wrist up and down.   
I bite back a strangled moan.   
I imagine what would have happened if I’d continued to disobey John. Maybe he would have shouted at me, maybe he would have degraded me, maybe he would have dragged me away down the corridor to teach me a lesson.   
Oh god!  
My hips buck up involuntarily as pleasure overtakes my body.   
I bite down hard on the makeshift gag in my mouth, the image of John’s face burnt on to the inside of my eyelids as my cock spasms, a steady stream of ejaculate shooting from the end, filling up the sock.   
I’ve always been rather... quick on the draw...  
I fall back in exhaustion, a thin layer of cooling sweat coating my skin.   
Normally, I do this as a necessary release, but there is defiantly something different about doing it for pleasure.   
I ball both socks up and hide them underneath my bed before settling down and drifting off back to sleep. 

The next morning, I feel relaxed, almost calm, not completely, but close. I go down to the showers, get washed and dressed, then off to the cafeteria for breakfast. Everyday the same, like clockwork.   
As I walk, I feel as though I have some sort of craving for John just nagging at my insides. I suppose I can put that down to my dream.   
I feel myself getting hot under the collar again, so I excuse myself from breakfast early, feigning the need to stretch my legs.   
Of course, as luck would have it, John is on his way out of the staff bathrooms.   
“Hey.”  
“Hello.”  
He takes a quick look around us in the otherwise unoccupied corridor before walking over to me.   
“How are you feeling?”  
“I’m fine. A little case of strangling never hurt anyone.” I shrug. “Well, apart from the people who die...”  
The corners of his lips quirk up in a boyish grin.  
“I’m in the guard bubble tonight. Maybe I’ll see you there?”  
“Why would I be in the guard bubble?”   
He stares at me for a moment in waiting, his eyes searching mine.   
“Because I’ll be there.”  
“Oh. Oh?”  
He grins again, but this one is more seductive than cheeky.   
“Midnight.”   
He taps the side of his nose, a gesture requesting my silence on the matter, before sauntering down the corridor. 

I have a long wait till I need to meet John, and each of those hours goes by achingly slowly, my job of turning soil doing very little to occupy me.   
I don’t know exactly why he wants to see me, but I know I want to see him.   
I wait not so patiently for lights out, but manage to keep still for the remaining 56 minutes till I can see John. I spot him in the bubble already, doing a cross word to pass the time, the same way I am doing by counting the number of threads on the back of the stitched writing on the label of my pyjama trousers.   
The big hand on the clock finally moves round to join up with the small hand over the number 12.   
The room is filled with a monotonous drone of snoring, steady breathing, and a variety of sniffles and grunts, all of which mask the sound of my socked feet shuffling across the cold, concrete floor on my way over to the glass box. 

 

JOHN’S POV 

God, today has gone by slowly.   
Every hour, every minute, every second even, has gone by unbearably slowly.   
I look down at the my wristwatch.   
00:00  
Oh thank god.  
I look out in to the dorm, my eyes immediately falling on a crouched figure, Sherlock I presume.   
I move to the door and unlock it, the shift of the tumblers making a quiet series of clicks.  
“Hey.”  
“Hello.” He says once he slips through the door, being sure to close it behind him as quietly as possible.   
“You umm... might want to sit on the floor so no one will see you if they walk past.”   
I hand him the pillow from my chair, which he settles on cross legged opposite me.   
“So, why did you ask me here?”  
I furrow my eyebrows.  
“Really?”  
He shrugs and shakes his head.   
“I... wanted to see you.”  
He blinks a few times, his mouth opening and closing a few times, kinda like a goldfish.   
“I see.” He says after a moment. “Why?”  
Oh, Christ. This kid.   
“Because, Sherlock, you intrigue me.”  
Surprisingly, he chuckles at this, his flush plump lips parting to show his pearly, slightly crooked teeth.   
“And I like you.”   
He looks up at me with his icy, feline eyes, as if he’s staring right in to my soul. I’ve noted that this is what he does when he’s ‘deducing’ people. It’s a little unnerving, but it’s also extremely hot.   
“I know you do, but that doesn’t explain why you wanted to see me.”   
“Because,” I start. “That’s what people do when they like each other. They spend time together.”  
“Is it?”   
I falter for a moment, wondering what to say next. That’s when I realise how new this all is to him. The way he talks, the way people talk to and about him, and of course the record of times he’s been admitted to medical. (I may have checked his records after I walked him back to his cube.) As he sits in front of me, staring up at me intently, I wonder if he’s ever had a friend, or if he’s spent his years alone.   
“Yes.” I say finally. “It is. They spend time together, asking questions, swapping stories, finding out what they have in common.”   
“Oh. Well I guess I see that. I mean, that is after all, Why I’m here.”  
He looks away for a moment as if in contemplation.   
I watch him curiously, watching the way his nose wrinkles a little as he thinks.   
“Have you ever microwaved a banana?”  
I start to laugh, but the look of confusion on his face says that he’s genuine.   
“Ummm... can’t say I have. Why...?”  
“Well, you said to ask questions, swap stories, and find out what we have in common. I have microwaved a banana, and I wanted to see if you had too. All three in one go.” He explains proudly.   
This time I do laugh, choosing to ignore the look of bemusement on his face.   
This is gonna be fun.   
“Ok, my turn to ask. How old are you?”   
“19. And you are... 25?”  
“Yes... why don’t you tell me how you know that?”  
I can tell he’s practically bursting at the seams to tell me.   
“A guess based off the age of your wristwatch. 18th birthday present, right?”   
“Yeah.” I chuckle.   
He really is something else.   
I can tell that what is perceived as arrogance by other people is really just a desperate search for approval, validation, praise. This is just how he relates to people, and it rubs them up the wrong way. Although, I will say he is a bit if a show off. That might be underplaying a little...  
“How long have you got?” I venture, praying it’s not too long.  
“13 months. Well, 11 now. Maybe less with good behaviour, but I think we can both agree that isn’t going to happen.”   
I decide to ask the question that has been burning a hole in my pocket.   
“What are you in for?”  
He swallows audibly and his demeanour noticeably changes.   
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”  
He shakes his head, shrugging it off.   
“I assume you’re here to put yourself through medical school.”  
“Correct. So... what is your favourite kind of music?” I ask, desperate to get back to the previous vibe.   
“Classical. I play the violin.”   
Of course he does.   
“Ok, I don’t have any classical music, but I have a shit tonne of ‘Green day’.”   
He tilts his head to the side in an adorable manner, not unlike the way a dog does when trying to understand what you’re saying.   
“You don’t know them?”  
He shakes his head.   
“I don’t concern myself with trivia.”   
“Well, then. Allow me to introduce you.”  
No, I’m not meant to have my phone, but I get really bored on this post, and there’s only so much people watching you can do, so I snuck my phone in along with my headphones.   
“Here.” I say, offering him an earbud as I move to sit with him on the floor.   
He watches over my shoulder as I select a song.   
‘Wake me up when September ends’  
I watch him closely for his reaction.   
After a moment, he begins tapping his fingers on his knee in time with the beat, and gently bobbing his head. During the last chorus, he closes his eyes, and tips his head back, his dark curls falling back and away from his face. When the song ends, he turns back to me, a smile of approval on his face.   
“I thoroughly enjoyed that.”   
“I’m glad.” I say with a grin.   
We’re sitting very close together now.   
My shoulder is brushing up against his, and our knees bump each other periodically.   
“Umm... I was meant to send you back down to medical tomorrow, but I can just have a look at you now. I just need to check for any bruises.”  
No, this is not just an excuse to keep him here(!)  
“Oh, ok.”   
I turn towards him and kneel up. When I press my fingers to his neck, his skin his very warm, and his pulse is through the roof.   
“Any tenderness?”   
“No.”   
I gently tip his head back using two fingers under his chin. There are some purplish marks, finger tip sized at the base of his throat. I’d love to replace those marks caused by pain with those inflicted by pleasure.   
His chest is rising and falling steadily, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows, and his heart is beating away like a rapid drum. It’s just too tempting an offer to resist. I slowly dip my head, and press my lips against his milky white skin.   
His breath hitches.   
When he sits up, his eyes are wide and blinking rapidly. I watch for a moment as he switches from looking in to my eyes then down at my lips for a few moments before I eventually cave, and lean in to kiss his full, plump lips.   
Their warm and soft, and taste ever so slightly of strawberry, the jelly from tonight’s dessert I assume.   
I pull back after a moment, my heart racing and my head spinning.   
I begin to worry that I’ve done something wrong, out of turn, but then, he’s kissing me.   
He’s pressing his lips up against mine and his hands are tightly gripping my shoulders. It’s one of those kisses where even though it’s sweet and innocent, it’s full of passion. It’s the way every kiss is with that one person...  
He pulls away after a moment, and takes a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I’m met with his icy blue orbs.   
“Well, I thoroughly enjoyed that.” I parrot.   
He physically relaxes, and even lets out a chuckle.   
“Me too.”   
He smiles coyly at me, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth.   
I go to lean in and kiss him again when my watch starts beeping.   
“Shit! My shifts at an end.”  
“Most people don’t complain about that...” Sherlock muses.  
“That means another CO will be coming to take my post. They can’t find you here.”  
He nods, and makes a move for the door.  
“Hang on, hang on.” I chuckle as I pull him back.   
“Tomorrow? Behind the greenhouse. I’ve been assigned to watch grounds crew.”  
“I’ll be there.”   
He grins before pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek. I try and catch his lips, but he pushes me back with a hand to the chest.   
“Tomorrow.”  
He gives me a sultry grin before slipping through the door, and creeping back to his cube, and out of sight.   
Wiley little minx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because Sherlock isn’t attune to human nature, doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to play hard to get.


	8. I want more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John have a little alone time, and Sherlock first begins to realise he might have a thing for authority...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Thank you so much for all the sweet comments.   
> (Obviously, things will get more intense as their relationship develops.)

SHERLOCK’S POV 

He kissed me.   
John actually kissed me.   
I have no frame of reference, but from what I know about the science of kissing, it reached the stated expectations.   
On a chemical level, I defiantly felt a raise of endorphins, and something else raise in the biological department...   
I may not have much... or any experience... but I think that kiss was pretty incredible.   
His lips felt amazing on mine, gentle, but still passionate.   
Although I may not be very good at socialising with other individuals, I have a working understanding of human psychology, and know exactly how to use it.   
Colloquially put, ‘playing hard to get’ is an excellent technique.   
I hardly slept last night, but after another necessary masturbation session, I eventually managed to get some sleep.   
Needless to say, I am going through my socks at a rate of knots.   
I’m always pleased to get out of the dorms and go to work, but today I practically sprint in to the garden.   
And there he is.   
He’s stood at attention, second nature to him of course, watching over a few of the inmates who are out getting their morning exercise.   
I look around to ‘check the coast is clear’ before slowly making my way over to him.   
“Morning, Sir.”  
“Good morning.” He says, a grin playing at his lips. “You’re up early.”  
“Yes.” I say simply, leaving out the bit because I was eager to see him, although my early arrival suggests just that.   
“Come with me. We can’t be seen talking out here.”  
I follow him across the grounds and over in to the greenhouse.   
“I’m gonna take out a rake for you, so we actually look like we came in here for a legitimate reason.” He chuckles as he closes the door behind us.   
“Ok.”  
I can’t help but blush like a fool when his fingers touch mine as he hands me the rake.   
He looks at me with his deep, stormy eyes in a way that makes my insides quiver.  
“How did you sleep?” He asks after a moment, his eyes flickering from me to scanning the garden.  
Well, I thought of you whilst I got off...   
“Fine, Thank you. And yourself?”   
“Yeah, yeah, good.”  
I don’t do small talk, it’s pointless. And yet, I find myself hanging on his every word.   
This is what it means to have someone, isn’t it? 

We have to go back in to the garden after a moment when the other inmates file in to the grounds.  
“As soon as work duty is over, volunteer to sweep up the greenhouse, Alright?”  
John whispers as we make our way across the field.   
“As if that would be believable.” I chide.   
“Fair point. Don’t exactly do as you’re told, do you?”  
He looks down his nose at me, his eyebrows quirking in a devilish manner.   
I find myself getting light headed, a common occurrence nowadays.   
“Right, I’ll volunteer you, and when you kick up a fuss, I’ll be a bit more firm.” He says, putting an unmissable stress on the word firm.  
I have to bite my lip to resist from reminding him that he’s on duty.   
I nod my head in understanding before wandering off to the garden, desperately trying not to skip. 

In my opinion, three hours has never gone by so slowly.  
The work day comes to an end, and we all round up to be counted before going back inside.   
“Holmes.”  
I look up from the floor and over to John. He’s staring at me intensely with steely, hooded eyes.  
“Sweep up.”  
Alright, stick to the play.   
“Why me?”  
I notice the other inmates tense at my sides, a sheen of excitement sweeping the group as a potential standoff presents itself.   
“What did you say inmate?”   
His voice has a ruff, deep quality to it, and it has me quaking where I stand.   
I almost forget that I have to respond to this.   
“I said ‘why me?’”   
Fuck, my voice sounds wavy.   
“Because I fucking said so.” He barks.   
When I still don’t budge, he clicks his fingers and indicates to the space in front of him as a summons.   
“Get over here. Now.” He orders, his military history very evident as he speaks.   
Even though this is completely staged, I find myself obligated to avoid my normal tendency to obstinate, and obey instead.   
“When I tell you to do something, inmate, you will fucking do it.”  
He forcefully pushes the broom in to my hands.   
“You understand me?” He growls, staring me down.   
“Yes sir.” I squeak, adverting my eyes.   
I notice something flicker across his face for a split second, concern, if I’m not mistaken, but he quickly goes back to being serious.   
I feel a weird sort of rush go through my body under his intense stare.  
“Get to it.”   
I traipse across the grounds to the greenhouse where, leant up against a table, I wait for the other inmates to be escorted inside by another CO.   
John comes in after waiting a precautionary minute.   
“Hey, you ok? That wasn’t too much, was it?”  
“No.” I reply, stepping a little closer to him. I’m a little bashful as I utter my next words. “In fact I liked it.”   
John raises his eyebrows in beguilement.  
“Oh, did you?”   
He’s regarding me with an ardent stare as he closes the distance between our bodies.   
“Yes.” I murmur, dragging out the ‘s’.   
This close, I can feel the warmth radiating of off him, along with the familiar scent of his aftershave.   
I search his gunmetal blue eyes and watch as his pupils dilate even further.   
That moment, right before you kiss someone, it’s filled with tension, heat, a desperate yearn for the other person. What I feel right now, it’s something much deeper than simple attraction or desire. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he feels it too. That need, that avid thirst is what makes him eventually lean in.   
It’s different than before.   
When we pull away this time, it only lasts a second or two before his hands are on my face, pulling me back to him.   
He’s kissing me with raw, lust fulled passion, and I find myself responding ever so readily.   
Its not weird, it’s not overwhelming as I thought it would be.   
Kissing him just feels... right.   
When he traces my lips with his tongue, I open my mouth without hesitation.   
He’s gentle at first, but soon he’s forcefully thrusting his tongue in to my mouth while he runs his hands down my body. I can’t help but let out a series of moans between kisses as pleasure courses through my veins. I feel myself getting hard as our kisses deepen, a rather noticeable tent forming in the front of my trousers. I don’t have much time to think about this before John grips my hips and hoists me up on to the table.  
I gasp in to his mouth as I feel him step in between my legs.   
I can both hear and feel him laughing at my outburst, his body jolting against mine.   
Even though we are now both giggling, it’s still incredibly hot. My legs are wrapped around his waist, his hands are in my hair and his pelvis is pressed right up against mine. I can feel something hard poking in to my thigh and it makes my cheeks flare up.   
This is new, so new, and yet I find myself wanting more.   
Knowing he’s hard is turning me on so much.   
I want more.   
I move my hands from his shoulders round to the front of his chest. I grab a fistful of his blue shirt, and pull him closer to me. A low groan vibrates through his body.   
I want to see if I can get him to do it again, but I need to breathe.   
I pull away and draw a deep breath.  
We don’t say anything.  
We don’t need to.   
We stay silent, catching our breath, our foreheads resting against each other, bodies still pressed together.   
I’ve never done anything like that before.   
I want to do it again.   
I manage to resist, not wanting to seem too eager.   
From this angle, I can see the extremely present bulge in his trousers.   
I feel a yearning to touch him there growing inside me.   
“That was fun.”   
John’s voice tears me from my thoughts.   
“Yeah.”   
He keeps his eyes trained on me for a moment, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.   
As it turns out, quite the turn on for me.   
I feel myself reaching for him again.   
He leans in, but pauses right before our lips touch.   
“You know you actually have to sweep this floor, right?”   
I chuckle before playfully pushing him away.   
He flashes me a flirty grin before helping me off the table.   
He gets out a second broom and helps me sweep the floor before we head out in to the grounds.   
“Right, we’d better get back inside before anyone notices either of us is missing.”  
“Yes, you’re quite right.”   
I traipse along beside him, keeping in time with his marched pace.  
“Hey, Wait a second.” He says just before we walk through the doors.  
“I’ve been assigned to the bubble tomorrow night. Come see me?”  
I nod my head, a grin tugging at my lips.   
“I just need to take care of something out here. I’ll see you inside.”   
He affectionately bumps my shoulder before disappearing down a corridor.   
I look down at myself to make sure I no longer have an opposing erection. That would be quite the talking point of the cafeteria, I imagine.   
I walk in to the large, noisy room once I’m sure everything is in order.   
I manage to get through the mundanity that is lunch, desperate to keep the ever persistent grin off my face. 

 

JOHN’S POV 

Fuck, I’m so hard.   
He just gets me all worked up.   
For someone with, from what I’ve gathered, no experience, he’s not too bad in the kissing department.   
I wonder what he’s like in other departments.  
Oh, fucking hell.   
I feel whatever blood isn’t already down there rushing to my groin.   
I’ve gotta get out of here.  
As soon as Sherlock’s taken himself in to the dinning hall, I race down the corridor.  
Fuck, I’ve gotta do something about this...  
Storage cupboard.   
That’ll work.   
Well, as much as wanking in a confine space at work ever does.   
I lock the door behind me before all but collapsing against it.   
I unbuckle my belt with shaky fingers, and take my throbbing dick in hand.   
God I hate myself.   
But he’s so pretty... with his soft pink lips, aqua feline eyes, tight, firm ass...   
I close my eyes as I begun to pump my wrist up and down my shaft.   
Ok... what am I going to think about...?   
Sherlock obviously, but what am I doing to him?   
Oh, I know. Yes, that’s good. 

 

/He’s knelt down between my legs, cat eyes hooded and sultry, his lips parted and wet.   
“You’re so big... how am I gonna get your big cock in my little mouth?” He coos, his voice coquettish and sultry.   
He bats his eyelashes at me, blue orbs dark, pupils blown wide.   
“I’ll try though.”   
He shuffles a little closer before lowering his head, and taking my dripping cock in to his perfect mouth.\

I jerk my wrist faster as I picture Sherlock’s gorgeous face.   
Oh god, the things I would do to him if I could...

/Sherlock moves his head up and down, taking my cock inch by inch. His mouth is warm and wet, and it’s so good, so hot...\

“Oh god...” 

I’m so close, so close, so-

/He swirls his tongue, sucking, licking, swallowing round my cock.\

I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming and it’s so hot.   
It’s intense, it’s messy, and I’m so spent.   
I cum all over my hand before collapsing and sliding down the door.  
Shit. Shit, it’s everywhere. Thank god there’s cleaning products in here.  
I quickly clean up the floor and myself before heading back out in to the corridor. I look down at my watch.  
Shit, that took a grand total of three minutes.   
I walk back down to the cafeteria and spot Sherlock across the room.  
I feel a small amount of shame creep up on me as I think about what I just did.   
Then I feel panic seeping in as I remember what we were doing before that.   
I have allowed myself to be seduced by an inmate.   
An inmate, who is stood by the coffee table, a cheeky grin on his face as he scans the crowd.   
He’s so cute.  
Fuck.  
I’m screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, things are about to get a whole lot more saucy. 😏


	9. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gives John a ‘helping hand’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this.

SHERLOCK’S POV

For the majority of my life, well, all of my life sans yesterday, I’ve never had that carnal desire. Of course I’ve felt aroused just like nearly every other human being, and I do enjoy the rush of endorphins I receive upon reaching orgasm, but that primal lust... that hunger for another person... that really is something else.  
Not to sound pretentious, but it’s like all my skin is on fire, and the only thing that will quench that burning is John.  
All I want is to touch him again.  
I want to feel his hands in my hair, his skin on my skin, his lips on my lips... his erection rubbing between my legs...  
I feel a fluttering in my stomach, and I have to bite my lip to prevent any embarrassing noises from escaping.  
Every time I see him, I feel a sort of rush, a rush that intensifies when he looks over to me.  
God, I want him so bad. 

The familiar feeling that accompanies waiting for John to come in for his night shift comes around once again.  
I wait in bed, still wearing my shoes so that I can sneak away as soon as I’m sure everyone is asleep.  
Christ, how long does it take one man to walk from the office down to the dorms- oh there he is.  
After a few more minutes, I finally creep out of bed and make my way across to the bubble. I knock quietly and John opens the door immediately. Eager.  
“Hey.”  
“Hello.”  
I take up my spot on the floor at the foot of his chair whilst he closes the door.  
“You know, I’m gonna sit down here with you today.” He says as he sits down opposite me.  
“How thoughtful of you.”  
“I know right?” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows in that oh so alluring way he does.  
“Not to be, cliche but you ummm... have an eyelash on your cheek.”  
He reaches towards me, and gently brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb.  
He cups my cheek in his large, calloused hand and stares at me intently.  
Is he going to kiss me again?  
Yes, yes he is.  
He looks down at my lips, up in to my eyes, then back at my lips before leaning in and kissing me.  
I’ve always wondered why people close their eyes when they kiss.  
You don’t think about it when you actually kiss someone, because all you can think about is how wonderful the other person’s lips feel on yours.  
John’s are soft on mine, a contrast to the traces of stubble on his jaw that rub against my cheek. He brings up both hands to cup my face, effectively forcing me to kneel up and turn towards him.  
I move my hands up in to his hair and tangle my fingers in his blond tresses.  
“Did I actually have an eyelash... or were you just looking for an opening...?” I mumble against his lips.  
“You did... but if you didn’t... I would have found a way...”  
I smile in to the kiss at this and wrap my arms around his neck.  
He chuckles at my initiative, and responds to it by moving his hands down to my waist. I feel myself hardening at this, but I don’t care.  
I need more.  
I grip his shoulders, and lift myself on to his lap. He moans softly at this, and pulls me closer to him by my hips.  
He’s already hard.  
This sets of some sort of animalistic desire inside of me, a desire that takes over my body, all but forcing me to roll my hips against his.  
He groans, and bucks his hips up, rubbing his erection between my legs in a way that causes the most pleasurable friction. I can’t help but gasp out a moan, my cheeks immediately flushing when the noise hits my ears.  
I can’t resist the urge to open my mouth when John runs his tongue along my bottom lip.  
Fuck, I’m so hard for him.  
Oh god, this could all be over in a matter of seconds if he keeps touching me like this.  
He thrusts his tongue in to my mouth, and fights mine for dominance, each velvety stroke eliciting sparks of pleasure.  
He brushes his fingers along my waistband, then gently drags them up my spine, making my hair stand up on end. I roll my hips forwards again, more violently then before, pressing my body as close to his as I can, but it’s still not close enough... I press my pelvis in to is, causing his raging hard on to rub against mine, and oh fucking hell thats not enough either.  
There’s too many layers of clothes between us.  
Oh, lord what has happened to me?  
Not sex... that’s too much now, but I want to touch him.  
I run my hands down his chest, down to his belt buckle.  
“Sherlock...”  
“Can I?”  
John stares at me with a look of bemusement.  
“You want to?”  
I look down between us and back up at him.  
“Yes. I want to.”  
I’ve never given a blowjob.  
I have no idea what I’m doing.  
Well, I know what I’m doing, but how to do it is another thing...  
“You sure?”  
I lean in and press my lips to his.  
“I’ll take that as a yes- oh...” He trails off when I move my lips down to his neck, mouthing at his warm skin, dragging my tongue across the surface.  
“Mmmm...”  
I’m still on his lap, and when he arches his hips up, I can feel his every outline.  
This spurs me on.  
I move my fingers to his collar and begin unbuttoning his shirt. My lips travel further down his body, planting kisses on each inch of newly revealed tanned skin.  
“Sherlock...”  
The deep, raspy tone of his voice goes straight to my cock. I can already feel myself weeping heavily inside my briefs, an uncomfortable wet patch forming on the light cotton.  
With shaking fingers, I manage to undo the rest of his buttons, leaving his toned chest completely bare.  
My eyes drift down his torso, following the trail of hair that starts at his navel and disappears under his waistband.  
The large bulge in his trousers looks so tempting...  
I move one of my hands from his chest down in between us, and brush my hands over his erection.  
“Oh...”  
I pull away from him for a moment; not quite confident enough to do this without looking. I fiddle with his belt buckle for a moment before moving on to his zipper. Without the confines of his navy blue trousers, I can see just how... big... He is... His boxers are red with a small, dark patch wetted with fluid.  
I lick my lips.  
I keep glancing up at him, locking eyes with him, his deep, stormy orbs.  
His eyes are kind and warm as he stares back at me, but they’re also ardent and flooded with lust.  
I can only imagine mine look the same as, with tentative fingers, I pull him out of his boxers.  
Christ, biology textbooks really don’t do the male genitalia any justice.  
His cock is long and thick, easily seven inches, engorged and leaking at the tip. I just sit on his thighs, staring down at his cock, possibly drooling, blinking and trying to even out my breathing.  
“You’ve never done this, have you?” He says after a moment.  
I suppose my look of astonishment gave it away.  
When I meet his eyes, he’s watching me with a sort of amusement and affection.  
“Can’t say I have.”  
He chuckles and presses a kiss to my lips.  
“Use your hand, yeah?”  
I nod and lean in to kiss him again.  
Ok, I can do this. I can do this. I want to do this.  
I keep kissing him as I move my hand up his thigh, and gingerly allow my fingers to touch his length. His breath hitches and his body twitches underneath me.  
He’s warm and hard, pulsing and throbbing in my hand.  
I pause for a moment, just getting used to the weight, adjusting my grip.  
John let’s out a low groan and tightens his hold on my hips.  
“Am I doing it right?” I ask against his lips.  
“Yes...”  
“Should I start moving...”  
“Moving your hand up and down? Yeah.” He groans, overlapping our dialogue.  
Our lips are still connected as I begin to slide my hand up and down his cock, but John pulls back a few millimetres every few seconds to exhale a shaky breath. When he leans back in, the kisses are heated and messy, a sense of desperation clear as I open my jaw wider to allow him better access.  
Maybe this isn’t so difficult. John seems to be enjoying it.  
His eyelids are fluttering as his eyes flick round the room, trying to distract himself I assume. I jerk my wrist a little faster, and it seems to have a positive effect on John.  
“Sherlock... mmm... mngh...” He groans in to my mouth as he scrunches my shirt in to his fists.  
This is exhilarating. Hearing him moan, feeling him throb, knowing I’m making him feel good.  
I’ve never been like this with anyone before. I don’t even really have friends. I have people I know, but they’re not my friends.  
Now I’m here, hidden away from the watchful eyes of others as I engage in secret libidinous shenanigans with a correctional officer.  
“Oh... oh!”  
I turn my attention back to John who’s eyes have screwed shut.  
“Sherlock, I’m gonna... cum... oh...”  
Hearing him say this lights some sort of fire within me, a fire that grows to an intense, burning inferno that powers me to continue. I jerk my wrist faster and faster till it’s aching, twinging, but all of that is overlooked by the most wondrous, salacious noises that fall from John’s lips.  
“Fuck... oh fuck... oh, oh, oh! Mngghhh! Gahhhhh!”  
I feel his cock spasming in my hand, followed by a wet, sticky fluid gushing in to my palm.  
Oh shit.  
I feel a sort of clenching, pulsating feeling in my lower abdomen.  
Oh fucking hell- oh, oh, oh!  
I screw my eyes shut and grit my teeth as I feel myself reaching my own orgasm and releasing in my briefs.  
Oh fuck.

 

JOHN’S POV 

Oh fuck.  
Sherlock’s eyes are clenched shut as his whole body shakes. His limbs are trembling and his head is thrown forward, quiet whines escaping him. I nearly failed to notice Sherlock’s situation in the thralls of my post orgasmic bliss, but the unmistakable, wet patch that spreads to the front of his trousers is a give away.  
He stops trembling, and remains still, chest and shoulders heaving.  
I can just about make out his ‘rabbit in the headlights’ expression through his dark curls as he hangs his head.  
“Hey, Hey, are you ok?”  
I tilt his chin up to force him to look at me.  
His eyes are wide with alarm, his cheeks flushed bright pink.  
“Whoops.” I chuckle after a moment.  
He looks up with his bottom lip drawn in between his teeth a bashful look of demure in his eyes.  
God, he’s so fucking sexy.  
“Thank you, by the way.” I grin as I press a kiss to his slightly parted lips.  
“You’re welcome.” He sighs, still slightly bemused.  
“You were very good, baby.”  
He giggles as I nose at his warm cheeks and press kisses to his eyelids.  
“I’m flattered.”  
“We have made quite the mess though, haven’t we...?”  
“Yeah... just a bit.”  
We look down between us at the miscellaneous jumble of fluids soaking our garments.  
“Hang on.”  
I move my hands from his slight waist to tuck my uncleaned cock back in to my boxers.  
Ugh.  
“Ok, so how are we gonna do this?”  
“Umm, I don’t know.”  
“Oh, there’s wipes in the first aid kit under the counter. Hold on.”  
I help Sherlock to climb off my lap before shuffling over to get the wipes.  
Most of the mess is on him, primarily his hands.  
“These are going to have to be burnt...” he grumbles as he looks down at his trousers with abhorrent distaste.  
I chortle at this.  
“I should probably go back.” He sighs after a moment.  
I feel my stomach sink.  
“Oh, ok.”  
He clearly notices my change in demeanour.  
“It’s my uhhh... underwear. It’s really uncomfortable.”  
I laugh again and he playfully bats my shoulder.  
“Ok, baby.”  
I press a chaste kiss to his lips then lead him to the door.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”  
He flashes me a coquettish grin.  
“Yes.”  
He gives me one last kiss before slipping through the door and disappearing in to the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to make this as real as possible. I think I succeeded... 😬


	10. Junky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John spend more time together, and find out more about each other.   
> And not all of it good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for all the lovely comments!

SHERLOCK’S POV

Oh good lord, what just happened?  
Well, it didn’t exactly just happen, it was yesterday, but I’m still in disbelief about it.   
Ever since that night, I’ve had a yearning, a craving, a desperate need to touch him again.   
If only I could find him...  
I stalk through the corridors, head down, choosing to ignore my surroundings. This may have been a bad idea because out of nowhere, someone grabs my arm and pulls me in to what I believe is a cupboard. After I get over my initial shock, I realise that my ‘attacker’ is none other than John.  
Oh, how cliche.  
“John, What the...?”  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”  
“You didn’t scare me, merely caused me to go in to a mild state of alarm.”  
John quirks his eyebrows and grins one of those smiles that makes my insides go all liquified.   
“What were your intentions when you... ‘kidnapped’ me?”   
“Well,” He starts, moving across the room towards me till there’s only a few inches between us. “I was ‘intending’ on doing... this.”   
He closes the distance between us.  
I let out a quiet sigh as he cups my face, and presses our lips together.  
They’re not as soft this time, but they have the unique, palatial blend of mint, tea, and shortbread that I’ve come to associate with John.   
“I missed you.” He pants when he pulls back to rest his forehead against mine.   
Sentiment... not something I am used to feeling, but I’m also not used to other people expressing it towards me. Perhaps that’s why I find myself whispering the same words back to him.   
Of course it’s true, but even if it wasn’t, I would have confessed as such just to see the smile that appears on his face.   
His smile continues even after he reconnects our lips and pulls my hips flush against his.   
When you go to a new restaurant, and the starter is absolutely marvellous, you cannot wait to try the other options the menu has to offer, despite only having a small amount of knowledge on the their repertoire.   
I cannot help myself but thinking of this analogy as I throw my arms around johns neck, pulling him closer.   
He doesn’t seem to mind, in fact he seems very enthused as he gently pushes his tongue passed my lips.   
I understand the neurochemistry of kissing, of course, but the feel of John’s sumptuously agile tongue expertly delving in and out of my mouth makes my theory of kissing seem like saying ‘I’ve read a book on how to fly a plane, so now I’m going to commandeer this aircraft and fly us off to Madagascar.’  
There’s nothing like it, and no words printed on any page of any book could ever make me feel the way he does.   
His hands on my hips feel like being wrapped in the most revitalising embrace in a warm blanket, his palpitating heart beating against not only his chest but mine too from where our bodies are pressed together.   
Then there are his lips, which make every nerve in my mouth tingle, not in an unpleasant way, more analogous to that equivalent sensation of eating ice cream.   
A sudden buzzing comes from John’s radio, effectively ending our moment.  
“Sorry baby.”  
I want to scold myself as I know the pout on my face is visible when he pulls away and answers the call.  
“Watson.”  
“Watson, one of the inmates in the kitchen has cut his hand. Adler has taken him down to medical, and I need assistance in the cafeteria.”  
“On it.”   
He sighs then moves forwards again and presses a kiss to my forehead.   
“We’ll have to leave at separate times. Wait here for a minute or two, ok?”  
I wait alone in the cupboard for an appropriate amount of time before exiting in to the hall.   
And so was our rendezvous, hidden moments in staff bathrooms, cupboards, the bubble, wherein which we would converse on the day’s matters; our lives outside of here; John would encourage me to develop my repertory of music of the non classical variety; and we would exchange kisses ranging from gentle and sweet to heated and desperate.   
Of course, such with anything of the likeness, these moments are juxtaposed with the hours of harrowing emptiness that follow.   
As of now, I’m loitering in the utility cupboard down the hall from commissary whilst I wait for John to finish in the dorms. After numerous, tedious minutes of waiting, the arcane pattern of knocks sound on the other side of the door.   
The second I open the wooden impediment, John is pushing me back against the wall and assaulting my lips with avid, concupiscent passion.  
“Hello-“ I heave, grasping at his shoulders in an attempt to stop myself from tumbling backwards.   
“Hi-“   
Although our moments have gradually been increasing in their magnitude, they have yet to return to the extremity of that moment in the guard bubble, lack of opportunity and all that.   
And yet, I may be forced to stand corrected when I feel John’s hand immediately reaching between our bodies and brushing up against my clothed erection.  
I break away from the kiss somewhat involuntarily as I fail to suppress a gasp.   
“This ok?” John murmurs against my cheek.  
I feel my mind cloud with apprehension.   
I don’t think he has any idea about the affect he has on me, and how arduous a task it is to avoid ejaculating in my briefs again.   
Although, if I am following his intentions correctly, my worry shall become moot.   
With that thought in mind, I make a grab for his hand and guide it up towards the slackened elastic waistband that is doing its best to hold my trousers up.   
“Sure?”  
“God, yes.” I pant before I have a chance to renege.   
He keeps our lips connected as he slips his hand past my cotton/poly blend trousers, and in to the confines of my briefs.   
My breath hitches audibly as the feel of John’s large, calloused hand on my cock translates from nervous impulses, to the most sensual perceptions I have ever felt.   
“You ok?” John breathes by my ear as he runs his fingers over the dripping slit of my cock.   
I let out a sharp whimper at this and accidentally dig my nails in to his shoulders.   
“Yeah-ah!”   
I catch his lips quirking up in to a smirk out of the corner of my eye.   
His movements are slow and precise as he pumps his wrist up and down my shaft.   
It’s the most intense, voluptuous experience I’ve ever had. The solo dalliances I’ve engaged in are nothing compared to the feel of Johns warm, ruff, manly hands...   
I can’t imagine it’s been more than about 30 seconds before I feel myself reaching my climax.   
“John...” I murmur breathlessly as I ball the stiff cotton of his shirt in to my fists.   
He catches on and increases the speed of his wrist which in turn, increases my pleasure.  
Oh god, this is good, so good, he’s so good- that’s it-   
“John- mngh...” I grunt as earth shattering waves of pleasure rush over me, setting my whole body alight with endorphin induced bliss.  
It’s so intense that I have to rely on his sturdy build to hold my weight up, my motor skills completely failing me.   
I’m sure I resemble a simpering, whining mess as I come down from my high.   
I hadn’t noticed that my eyes had shut until I feel Johns lips on my closed eyelids.   
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He husks, his voice deliciously deep and raspy.   
I’m not able to offer him a verbal response just yet, so instead I place a badly aimed kiss to his temple.   
“You feel ok?”   
My breathing is heavily laboured, restricting my ability to speak coherently, so instead I go with the symbolic ‘thumbs up’ gesture that seems to reassure him.   
“I came prepared this time. Tissues and wet wipes.” He chuckles as he presents the items from his pocket.   
“I must say, I do appreciate it when others prepare for events, although this is a little different from what I think they had in mind in the scouts.”   
His lips part in a grin before he kisses me again.   
“All cleaned up?” He asks after I finally throw away the wipe that was responsible for cleaning my hands.   
“Yes, Thank you.”   
He peers through the glass window in the door and out in to the hallway before nodding to me that it’s safe for us both to leave.   
“Ok, I have to go and start my shift in the warehouse. I’ll see you tonight though, if I can.”  
“Ok. Have a good day at work, honey.” I tease, making him chortle.   
He presses a chaste kiss to my lips, then disappears down the corridor and out of sight. 

 

JOHN’S POV 

As time goes on, Sherlock and I only spend more time together. Sure, it’s only for a few minutes at a time most occasions, but sometimes there are moments when we have free time, and we can sneak away for half an hour or so for our more... intimate activities.   
I learn more little tidbits about his life, like his hobbies, his family, particularly the older brother who intrudes in every aspect of his life.   
The one thing I still don’t know though is what he did to get in here.   
I thought about asking him for a bit, but based on the way he reacted last time, I decided to drop it.   
That all changes when Molly comes out of medical, hair a mess, piles of paper in hand.   
“Oh, John. Can you do me a favour?”  
“Sure. What’s wrong?”  
“Bloody, bloody woman has gone off on leave again, and there’s no bloody stand in! I can’t leave, I’ve got a young man here with a case of what I believe is hepatitis. There are a few inmates who haven’t had their vaccinations against it, and the last thing we need is an epidemic. Could I trouble you to go and round them up?”   
“Sure, no problem.”  
I take a look at the list of inmates as I walk down to the corridors. As fate would have it, Sherlock is on the list.   
I find him in his bunk, blabbering away about solar panels, or something to that extent.   
He spots me pretty much as soon as I walk in to the room.   
“Holmes, medical. Nothing to worry about, just a routine vaccination.” I clarify for him when he gives me a weird look.   
“Now, please.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Ok, now is not the time to get hard.   
Sherlock and his bloody sultry tones...   
“What’s this about?” He asks quietly once we’re in the hall.  
“Hepatitis is going round. You need your vaccination.”  
“Oh, I see. There I was thinking this was a conjugal visit.”   
I can only offer him a smirk as anyone with half good eyesight would notice if I were to respond more affectionately.   
He follows in toe as I gather up the other inmates. When we get to the kitchen to collect the last inmate, I manage to put a face to the name of the inmate I recognised.   
Moriarty.  
He seems all but gleeful when I call him over.   
Well, fuck.  
“Right, you two are going to need to keep on either side of me. Any funny business, and you’re both getting shots. Have I made myself clear?”  
Sherlock responds with a curt ‘yes, sir’, where as Moriarty instead offers me a shit eating grin.   
“Right, let’s go then.”  
When we arrive at medical, I inform Molly of the conflict between Sherlock and Moriarty.  
“Oh, yeah I know about that. Maybe you should stay? Just in case anything kicks off.”   
“Sure.”   
I stand in the corner, staring at Moriarty as he does to Sherlock.   
“Holmes.”  
Sherlock perks his head up at his name, and walks over to the bed.  
“Roll your sleeve up please.”  
I notice Sherlock hesitate for a moment before he complies, and pulls his sleeve up to expose his arm.   
The small, purple blemishes of track marks on his arms are unmistakeable.  
I’m sure he knows I’m staring at him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.   
“Ok, you’re all good. You are free to go. Well not free... sorry. Bad choice of words.”  
Sherlock brushes it off, and skulks back over to his chair in the corner. 

In my dismay, I fail to notice the transaction going on between Moriarty and Sherlock on the walk back.  
That’s until I hear the sound of someone hitting the wall.   
I whip my head around, expecting to see Sherlock on the floor, but instead, I see him throwing a punch Moriarty’s way. He misses, and instead gets a sucker punch to the gut.   
“Enough! Enough!”   
I feel every protective instinct I have for Sherlock desperately trying to over ride the confusion, the rage, the disappointment I also feel towards him right now.   
Another guard comes along to grab hold of Moriarty whilst I take Sherlock aside.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?!” I snap as I close the door to the storage cupboard.   
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even look up.   
“Do you wanna end up in SHU?!”  
I lower my tone for the last syllable, regretting how harsh I sound.   
“He called me a junky...” He finally offers up.  
“Well, that’s what you are, aren’t you?”  
I’m sure I’ll berate myself for that later, but I’m still battling the sea of emotions I’m experiencing right now.  
“You know... I never would have pegged you for a drug addict.”   
“Why not?” He spits suddenly, his voice a sharp hiss. “What, not good enough for me? Did you think I was in for something more clever? More sexy? Like murder?”  
“It’s not that, I just- I just didn’t think...”   
I bite my lip to refrain from snapping at him any further.   
We both stay silent for a few moments, just staring at the concrete floor.   
“I’m surprised you didn’t see it.” He says after a few minutes. “You are a medical student after all.”  
I realise he does have a point. The signs were there, I just didn’t see them. I didn’t want to see them.   
“Well, I suppose love is blind.”  
I can almost feel him tensing on the other side of the relatively spacious cupboard.   
“What?”  
“You heard me.” I blurt, not able to keep things under anymore.   
Christ, I was a soldier. I watched men die, good men. I stood at the side, stood at their funerals, watched as their families grieved, not allowing myself to cry, holding it all together. But here, now, locked in a bloody storage cupboard, I find myself unable to keep my self contained.   
I march the few steps between us, and slam him up against the wall. He lets out a small gasp against my lips, but quickly reciprocates the kiss.  
He grips my shoulders, and I grab him by the thighs, making him jump up so his long legs are wrapped around my waist.   
I allow my tongue to explore his mouth and he even slackens his jaw to allow me better access.   
He lets out low whines and moans as I press him even further in to the wall.  
“I love you.” I murmur in the brief moment we pause to breathe.   
Despite having accidentally confessed a moment ago, I feel the need to officially tell him.   
It seems like he needed to hear it too as he pauses, and stares at me in astonishment before pressing our foreheads together.  
“I love you, John.”   
He says it so quietly, so gently, but it’s earnest and honest as the words fall from his lips.   
We stay still for a little while, resting against each other, Sherlock sat on the shelf that runs all around the perimeter, legs still wrapped around me.  
“I’m sorry I lost my temper.”   
Sherlock shakes his head and murmurs notions of silence.   
“It’s alright. I’m fully aware of the rage I cause in others.” He chides himself lightheartedly, but there’s some sadness in it too.   
“You don’t enrage me. I just... worry about you.”   
He tilts his head in a manner that reminds me of a small puppy.   
I plant a soft kiss to his forehead and pull him even closer to me.  
After a few more precious minutes, I return Sherlock to his dorm with the solum reminder that I will actually have to write him a shot.  
“You can’t get out of this just because I love you.” I whisper quietly.   
He blushes and shakes his curls.   
“Go. Before we get caught.” He whispers back.  
I grin and turn on my heel. I look back at him one last time and see him mouth the words ‘love you’.  
Honestly, I’ve never felt more juvenile in my entire life.   
All this sneaking around is like every teenage chick flick ever written, but I won’t deny that it’s also really fucking hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have seemed a bit fast, but I’m pretty sure Sherlock in the show has been in love with John since day 1.


	11. Wait, what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John get interrupted, the former gives the latter a little gift to compensate, and the possibility of moving their relationship to the next level present itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

SHERLOCK’S POV

It’s not long before John is stationed back in the guard bubble, but this time he has the shift between 05:00 and 13:00.   
I drag myself across the floor, my body still drowsy with the few hours of sleep I managed to get.   
“Hey, baby.”  
“Hi.”   
I find my tired muscles pulling in to a grin as john drags me in to the room.   
He almost immediately assaults my lips with his, lust a vicious motivator for him to begin thrusting his tongue down my throat.   
I’m a little astounded, but by no means displeased with how eager he is.   
After I get over my initial surprise, I wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my pelvis forwards so our groins are pressed right together.   
He’s already hard, and so am I.   
The adrenaline filling my body does just as good of a job at providing me with courage as I can imagine an alcoholic beverage would do.   
Before I would falter, but now I find myself reaching down between us to rub my hand over his bulge.   
His breath hitches, and his fingers dig in to my hips.   
He walks us backwards until he’s sat in his chair and I’m in his lap, my legs bent as I kneel either sides of his thighs.   
I can feel his lengthy cock at the apex of my thighs, pressing in to my skin, turning me on to the point that the exuberant, titillating sensation in my abdomen is becoming overwhelming.   
I’m thrown in to a confrontation with myself on whether I want to reward myself by grinding down on him, and finding release, or whether I want to keep my briefs dry.   
John makes this decision for me as he brings his hands down to my ass and begins pulling me towards him with rapid vigour.   
Oh god...  
I’ve never given much thought to what sexual intercourse feels like, but if it’s anything compared to the lustrous sensation of his imprisoned erection attempting to penetrate me through my corse woven trousers, I will be rendered dumbfounded in an uncomprehending state of euphoria.   
“John...” I moan against his lips, my hips still bucking with his.   
I don’t want to stop him, but I can already feel the familiar sensation of an approaching climax, threatening to shellack my inhibitions.  
I can’t stop myself from desperately rutting against him, so instead I turn the tables on him, and move my hands down to unbuckle his trousers.   
“Somebody’s eager.” He rasps by my ear in a mirthlessly chuckle that makes my insides quiver.   
“I want to touch you again.”   
My voice is breathless and demure as I move my lips down to his neck.   
John allows a low groan to fall from his parted lips, his chest heaving as he comprehends my request.   
“May I?”   
He looks up at me, pupils blown wide with arousal, and chuckles.  
“You may.”   
I grin, and move my lips back to his neck before continuing my decent down his body, unbuttoning his shirt as I go.   
He lets out a low groan of pleasure as I climb off his lap and settle in between his legs, slowly unzipping his trousers.  
His scarlet boxers are tented up around his cock which is desperately straining against the cotton fabric, enticing me.  
“Gotta say... I love having you on your knees.” John quips with a smirk and a raise of his eyebrows.   
I chew my lips between my teeth, and roll my eyes at him.  
I move my hands up his thighs and gently part his boxers.  
I’m not as anxious this time, fully aware of the astounding reaction I got out of him last time.   
His cock is already leaking with creamy pre-cum, the beads of moisture dripping down his shaft.   
This time, I want to taste him.   
I want my mouth on him, I want to run my tongue over his tip, I want to swallow every drop of his release.   
It’s only when I hear John murmur a breathy ‘fuck’, that I realise I’ve said this all out loud.   
“Oh.” Is all I manage to stammer out, my cheeks flaring a colour I can only imagine matches that of John’s underwear.   
“I want that too.”   
I swallow thickly as I gaze up at him, meeting his intense, ardent stare.   
I take a moment to take in the measurements of John’s cock.   
I won’t be able to get all of it in my mouth.   
Oh good god, imagine how much that would- will hurt during sex?   
I scratch that thought from my mind, forcing it away so I can focus on the task at hand... at mouth?   
I brace myself on his thighs as I move my head in towards him.   
I am probably going to screw this up.   
Don’t go too fast, don’t take too much, don’t choke, and for goodness sake be mindful of teeth.   
I run through this list as I gingerly wrap my mouth around the leaking head of his cock.  
“Gah...” John gasps, his eyes screwing shut.   
I wish I was able to keep my eyes open, but with my hyperactive brain desperately trying to focus, my eyes close in an attempt to not get distracted by the other sensory events going on around me.   
The taste of his pre cum floods my mouth, and makes me wrinkle my nose. It’s not awful, it’s just a little bitter.   
I hesitantly move my mouth down a little further, running the flat of my tongue along the skin.   
“Oh Jesus...”   
I yelp a little in surprise when I feel one of  
John’s hands on the back of my head, but I don’t pull away.   
As I become more comfortable with the weight on my tongue, and manage to fight off the intrusive thoughts of ‘oh my god, John’s cock is in my mouth’, I begin to experiment a little.   
I swipe my tongue across his dripping slit, causing him to howl.  
“Can you do that again?” He pants, his voice thick and rough.   
I manage to peel my eyes open, and take a quick glance at John, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes screwed shut.  
As is my nature, I obey, and lick his slit again.  
“Mnnngghh... fuck- oh god!”   
I bob my head up and down a little faster, swiping my tongue, gently grazing the soft skin with my teeth.  
“Shit... shit... Sherlock, if you don’t stop now... I’m gonna-mmm- oh fuck... cum in your mouth...”   
I know I’ve already told him I want him to, but he seems to have either forgotten that in the midst of his pleasure, or he just wants to warn me in case I’ve changed my mind.   
I most certainly haven’t, and I remind him of this by opening my eyes before swallowing around the head of his cock.   
“Ahh! Mnngghhg!”   
I feel John’s length spasm before spurts of hot, salty, bitter liquid is gushing down my throat.   
I have to pull away so I don’t choke on the mouthful I’ve already obtained, my eyes watering at the sheer velocity and magnitude of the fluid.  
I grimace as it washes down my throat.   
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand before turning my attention back to John.   
He’s completely sated, eyes closed, chest heaving, his fingers digging in to the sides of the chair.   
I kneel up and press a kiss to his parted lips.   
When I pull back, his face contorts in disapproval as he tastes himself on my lips.   
“Ugh...”  
“Hey, you didn’t just got a mouthful of it.” I tease, thwacking him lightly in the chest.   
“Mmm... Thank you very much for that.”   
He sighs happily before pressing our lips back together again.  
“I thought I tasted funny?”  
“I’ll cope.”   
His hands are on my hips, pulling me in to him again, and oh god, I just want more of him, I want all of him.  
I think he knows this too as he brings one of his hands down to my ass, running his fingers down the seam of my trousers.   
I’m so wet and hard for him right now, my briefs both soaking wet and threatening to rip as John continues to tease me.   
Suddenly, the door to the dorms swings open. I pull away from him, and sit back under his desk, my heart thumping as panic sets in.   
“Oh fuck!”John exclaims, his eyes wide as he scans the room. “Quick, get under the table!”   
“I am under the table.”  
He looks down at me and furrows his brows.   
“Get more under the table!”   
I scuttle back as far as I can so my back is pressed up against the wall, mindful not to bash my head on the desk.   
A knock on the door has us exchanging worried glances.   
“Your trousers are still undone.” I whisper in concern.   
“Fuck.” He hisses before quickly buttoning his trousers back up. “Oh shit, it’s Rosie. Come in.” He beckons to her, turning himself in the chair so that hopefully, I’m blocked from her view.   
She enters the room with a nervous disposition and closes the door behind her.   
She’s here to ask something of him, probably a favour.  
“Hi.”  
“Hi.”  
“Can I ask a huge favour?”  
See? I was right.   
“Sure, anything. What’s up?”  
“I was invited to this impromptu party, and I couldn’t get time off. Lestrade said I could go if I got someone to cover for me. Could you cover my shift tomorrow night?”   
I can just about see her face from here. Her eyes are soft and her lips are chewed in between her teeth as she waits for John’s answer.   
“Yeah, sure.”  
“Oh, you’re the best. Thank you so much!”  
“It’s no problem.” John shrugs, leaning his weight back in the chair.   
“Let me take you out for a drink as a thank you.”  
Wait, what?  
“Oh, you don’t have to.”  
What is she still doing there, the man said no.  
“Please. It’s the least I can do.”   
Take a hint, Rosie.  
“Alright, go on then.”   
Wait, what?  
I dig my nails in to my knees as I sit still, a coping mechanism I have adopted in an arduous attempt at controlling the animalistic impulses to jump out from under the table and punch her in the face.   
The floors in here are really bloody uncomfortable. They’re cold, and hard, and the tightly packed grainy material scratches at my skin.   
Focus on that, focus on that.  
I wish she’d just bugger off already.   
“Ok, how’s Friday?”  
“Sure.”  
She bids him goodbye, then departs in to the corridor again.   
“Well... that was weird.”   
I crawl out from under the table and peer over the desk in to the darkness.  
“You could say that.”   
After a moment, I feel John’s hand grip my wrist and pull me towards him.   
“Hey, are you ok?”   
I search his gunmetal blues, his pupils still blown wide with arousal.   
I falter for a second before nodding.  
“No you’re not. Look,” He starts, and pulls me in to his lap. “I’m only going out with Rosie as a formality. She’s just a friend. Why would I want her when I have you.”  
“She doesn’t know that.”   
He pulls his lips in to a thin line.  
“No one knows that. And they can’t.”   
I mutter, and drop my head, my curls hanging over my eyes.  
“I know.” John says softly, placing his hand under my chin and making me look up at him.   
His hands on my back are gentle, tracing little patterns on my skin as he he holds me to him.   
“But I love you, and only you.”  
Hearing him say that sends shivers down my spine as a warm, fuzzy feeling spreads through the rest of my body.   
I lean in and press a kiss to his lips, my heart all but fluttering when I feel him smiling in to the kiss.   
“I love you. I just wish I didn’t have to hide it.”   
“I know, baby. Now, I now no one else knows you’re mine, but I can do this...”   
He pulls my shirt up and dips his head before sucking on the taut skin over my stomach. “And at least you’ll know.”   
I look down at the red and purple mark just over from my left hipbone and feel a similar colour spread on to my cheeks.   
I remain seated in his lap for a moment, my head pressed against his.   
“I should go.” I say quietly, gently running my fingers through his soft, blond hair.   
“Ok. I’ll see you in the morning.”   
As I stand up from his lap, his eyes flicker down to my groin. I follow his gaze, and see a still present tent in my trousers.   
“Well, I would have done something about that if we hadn’t been interrupted.” He says with a quick swipe of his tongue to his lower lip.   
Fuck, I love it when he does that.   
“Yeah?”   
“Mmmm.”   
He stands up and pulls me flush against him.   
“I would have taken you in my mouth, slow and gentle. I’d work you till you were a thrashing mess, pleading, begging me to let you cum. Then right when you were on the brink, I’d slip my fingers in to your tight, little, virgin hole... and make you cum... and I’d swallow every sweet drop.”   
My legs feel as though they’re about to give up, and become one with the floor as his words are whispered in to my ear as a raspy husk.   
John pulls back at this, an ear splitting grin appearing on his face as he looks at my expression.   
“That’s just something... for you to think about tonight.”   
I can’t help but gasp at is lewd suggestion, nay request, my eyes wide and blinking.   
“Off you go.”   
He presses a parting kiss to my lips, then I depart back to bed, my cock throbbing between my legs.   
Thanks john(!) 

 

JOHN’S POV 

I have ruined so many bedsheets by now. My laundry is getting ridiculous, and I’m pretty sure my search engine wants to drown itself in bleach.   
I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard as I did last night.   
The imagery of Sherlock in between my legs, on his knees, his pretty little mouth round my cock... that coupled with the knowledge that he got himself off last night to the fantasy of my words.   
I couldn’t see what he was doing exactly last night, but I could definitely see his bed moving a little and his sheets being kicked about shortly after he went back to his cube.   
When I arrived at work this morning, he looked positively red with embarrassment.   
Whenever I caught his eye, his cheeks would flush, and he’d offer me a coquettish smile before ducking his head.   
God, I want him so badly.   
Fuck, I’m getting hard.   
I clear my thoughts, and go back to the task at hand; processing.   
Yep. I’m gonna die here.

Later in the day, I spot Sherlock in the library, curled up in a chair, head in a book.  
I take a quick look around before making my way across the room.   
“Hey.”   
“Hi.”   
He manages to maintain eye contact with me for all of ten seconds before going all blushy and giggly again.   
“What is going on with you?” I tease, gently poking his shoulder.   
He pulls his lips between his teeth before reaching below the waistband of his trousers.   
What...?  
He pulls out a bundle of white cloth and hands it to me.   
“Sherlock-“  
“Just a little something to keep you entertained.”   
He flashes me a wink then retreats across the room and out in to the corridor.   
I stand there, dumbfounded, in the corner of the library just holding a bundle of cloth... what even is this?   
Oh... oh damn... did not expect this of him.   
In my hand, is the pair of underwear Sherlock was wearing last night.   
I remember then where I am, and quickly shove them in to my pocket.   
I can’t help but grin to myself as I saunter through the corridors, Sherlock’s underwear clutched in my pocket.   
I am amazed at how bold a gesture this is. He seems to be very comfortable with me now, so maybe... maybe he’s ready for more?   
I’ve slept with a handful of women, but I’ve never had a man before.   
It’s a lot more complicated, and I’m not even sure we’d manage in here.   
Maybe I should ask Sherlock what he thinks.   
He might not even want to.   
I should definitely ask.  
I manage to locate him in his cube after work duty.  
“Holmes, a moment please.”  
Honestly, I am amazed that no one has picked up on this; I suppose it just shows you how self absorbed people are.   
“How’d you like your... gift?” He drawls as soon as I shut the door to the cupboard.   
“Very surprised by it, but... very enthused.”   
I censor myself from telling him exactly what I plan to do with them later, although surly that was his intention when he gave them to me.   
“Good.” He mews by my ear, dragging his hands down my arms.   
I am definitely loving this new side to him.   
“I actually... wanted to ask you something.”  
“Mmmm?” He murmurs as he moves to place his lips on my neck.   
“Would you umm... want to...”  
Fuck he’s distracting.   
“Do you think you’d want to...”  
Why am I finding this so difficult to say? Maybe it’s because I know how inexperienced he is. I can’t just flat out say ‘hey babe, wanna smash?’ It has to be more tactful than that.   
“Do you want to maybe... take the next step?”   
Fucking hell, there’s like a thousand better ways to say that.   
Sherlock pulls back, and looks at me with wide eyes.  
Shit, maybe he isn’t ready after all.   
“You mean sexual intercourse?”   
Fuck, he really is innocent.   
Well, maybe not so innocent, I think to myself as I remember the pair of underwear in my pocket.   
“Yes, I do. Is that ok with you?”   
He leans forwards, and gently presses our lips together in a short, but passionate kiss.   
“Yes.” He whispers.   
I reconnect our lips, and pull him to me by his hips.   
“Ok, we’ll need to have a... conversation on the practical side of things.”  
He nods in understanding and purses his lips.   
“Come find me tomorrow after lunch. We’ll talk then, ok?”  
“Ok.”   
He kisses me once more before retreating out in to the corridor.   
We’re actually going to have sex.   
Might not be anytime soon, but it’s going to happen.   
For now, I’ll have to make do with the underwear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, should they “smash”?


	12. Sister, mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John deliberate about the “next step”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kinda meh and also sorry it took so long. But... sexy times coming very soon. 
> 
> Also, I switched the order of POVS for this chapter.

JOHN’S POV

Sherlock appears some time during late morning, his eyes scanning the crowd till he spots me.   
The subtle raise of his eyebrows is a gesture not lost on me before he disappears out in to the corridor.  
I state to Adler that I’m going to check on the toiletry supplies, and allow myself to follow Sherlock.   
I can just about make out his dark hair through the frosted texture of the glass panel in the door.   
I don’t have a chance to knock, Sherlock already opening the door to allow me inside, a look of what can only be trepidation spread across his angular yet juvenile face.   
“You alright?”   
At first I think maybe he didn’t hear me, but his delayed, somewhat abrupt deliverance of the word ‘fine’ makes me think he may just be the opposite.   
“Ok, what’s going on?”  
He shakes his head, waving me off with his hand as he perches himself on the table at the back of the small cupboard.   
“Nothing, Nothing. I was merely... let us say feeling rather... skeptical about this conversation. As I’m sure you know, I have very limited knowledge on the subject of carnal relations, and thusly, the conversation will be all but one sided.” He rambles, pausing only when he realises that he is indeed doing said action.   
“Do you not want to have this conversation?”   
He vigorously shakes his head at me as I come to sit beside him.   
“No, no, I simply feel as though I may be a little inadequate.”  
I’m not sure in which context he is inflicting this description upon himself, but none the less, I reassure him he is not in the slightest.   
As I look at the brunette, eyes wide and youthful, a constant reminder of how, while not inadequate, as he put it, how very innocent he is.   
“Sherlock, I don’t want your first time to be in here.” I say finally, my voice low and cautioned.   
Sherlock draws his bottom lip between his teeth, and turns to look at me, his focus going in and out.   
“Why does it matter where we are?” He whispers after a moment, sliding along the desk so our legs are touching.   
“Is it not the fact that I am with you? That it is you who I give myself to?”   
His face his right by mine now, his warm breath tickling my skin, his nose just skimming my cheek.   
“Is that not what matters?”   
I chew the inside my cheek.   
He is right to a point, that all matters, but so much more does too, but he isn’t to know.   
How would he?  
I lost my virginity to my second girlfriend when I was 17.   
It was at a house party in one of the guest bedrooms; Classy, I know.   
I remember just how awkward, rushed, and messy it was, but what I remember more than anything was how as soon as it was over, we quickly got dressed, and hurried back downstairs before anyone noticed we had gone.   
I don’t want that for Sherlock.   
I want to be able to hold him, kiss him, sooth him, comfort him, bask in the afterglow, be with him for as long as he needs, as long as we both need.   
With this thought in mind, I turn to him and shake my head.   
“I can’t, Sherlock. I won’t.”  
He withdraws his hand from my shoulder, and I can just feel his energy sinking.   
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” I say hastily, reaching forward to cup his face.   
“Of course I want to. I just...”  
I stare to in to his innocent blue orbs, and run my thumb over his cheek.   
“I just don’t want you to regret having done it here.”   
He falters for a moment, his eyes scanning my face before he leans in to kiss me, soft and gentle.  
“I think you’re right.” He says quietly, his lips barely apart from mine.   
“You’re not upset?”  
“Frustrated might be a better word to describe this.” He chuckles lightheartedly, leaning towards me and allowing his head to rest on my shoulder.   
I take his hands down press a kiss to his knuckles.   
“You know I love you, don’t you?”   
He nods and plants a kiss on my cheek.   
“I love you. I assure you, I am not upset. I see your reasoning, and I completely understand.”

Now I suppose all I have to do is get him out of here.

 

SHERLOCK’S POV

 

We sit for a moment, exchanging hushed whispers of affection, and tentative touches, ranging from lust to love.   
I rest my head on johns shoulder whilst he circles his thumb on the back of my hand and my wrist.   
Then, he drags his thumb up a little further, revealing one of my track marks.   
Quiet involuntarily, I flinch and pull my hand away from him.   
“Sorry.”   
The apology is said by us both, each offering a head shake of reassurance also.   
“What I find it difficult to get my head wrapped around is the fact that you, a... genius... got caught.”  
While I am charmed by his flattery, I cannot look beyond his ordinary stupidity.   
“What makes you think I was caught?”   
John falters, his brows knitting together, a look of confusion washing across his face.  
“I wasn’t caught by authorities, I was handed over to them. By my own brother no less.”   
I see john’s facial expression change again, this time to one of what I perceive as shock.   
“It would be an understatement to say he has never been full of brotherly love, but I was still rather surprised to find out it was he who had caused my arrest to come about.” I say matter of factually, perhaps in a vain attempt to convince John that, although having many an argument that may or may not have involved rather spectacular insults in Latin, this was extreme even for Mycroft.  
John still looks perplexed, his lips slightly parted, eyes wide as he stares at me.   
“His justification was that he did it for my own good; it was the only way to stop me...”   
I keep my gaze fixed on John, who seems to be understanding what it is I’m getting at.   
“I do understand, I suppose.” I say after a moment, my gaze now drifting to the floor. “I... I guess he just didn’t want me to end up like...”  
I look back up again. There’s no point hiding it from him anymore.   
“My sister.” 

 

He’s quiet for a little too long for my liking, so my instincts tell me the best way to deal with this is to continue rambling.   
“My younger sister is in an asylum for the criminally insane. Mycroft was worried I would end up going down a dark path... shooting myself up until I was an unresponsive, desolate shell of a person. That’s how he sees our sister.”  
I’m not sure anymore whether I’m talking to him or myself, some of my own words only resonating with myself now as I speak them aloud.   
John finally speaks again.   
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”   
He doesn’t sound annoyed that I’ve kept it from him, instead merely baffled.   
As I’ve come to understand, people in a relationship tell one another things about not only their day to day lives, but of the experiences they have encountered, both wonderful and tragic.   
I suppose I see the appeal.   
What I don’t see though, is how Euros counts as either of these things.   
She is not in my every day life.   
She is not wonderful.   
She is not tragic.   
“I don’t know.” I say instead of explaining this.   
He seems satisfied, and simply reaches for my hand, squeezing it between his.   
“My sister is an alcoholic.” He says after a long pause.   
I look at him from the corner of my eye.   
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I echo.   
He shakes his head.   
“Because I’m ashamed of her.”   
He turns towards me and takes a deep breath.   
“She was never there for me. My older sister... I could never rely on her.”   
His eyes drift from mine as he speaks of her, a brief insight in to how deeply she effects him.   
Euros doesn’t effect me, in fact she plays very little part in my life.   
I haven’t seen her since I was six.   
To me, she is simply a memory, and to my brother, nothing but a lesson to teach me, a tool in order to mould me, and keep me from beckoning the worst version of myself.


	13. Emotional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John take the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I wanted to write it as one piece. Hope you enjoy!

JOHN’S POV

“Hey.”  
I look up and see Rosie leant against the door.  
“Hi.”   
“What are you doing?”   
I look down at the file in my lap.   
Sherlock’s.   
“Just looking for spelling mistakes...”  
Well, that was pathetic.   
She clearly thinks so too, but she doesn’t say anything.   
Sherlock still has four months.   
While in the outside that may not seem like a long time, but this place has a way of slowing everything down.   
“You still good for tonight?”  
“What?” I ask, turning my head in her direction, only to be met with a look of distain.   
“Drinks?”  
Oh shit.  
“Oh, Yeah, Yeah of course.” I ramble quickly, stupidly.   
“Shall we go straight from work?”  
“Sure.”   
She grins at me, then exits the room, leaving me alone with the notion that this was an extremely bad idea.

After work, we get changed, and meet in the corridor.   
She definitely remembered we were going out tonight, as her stylish outfit would suggest.   
“Shall we get going then?”  
“Sure.”   
As we walk down the hall, I can’t help but think about all the ways this could go wrong.   
Am I leading her on?  
If so, how do I tell her I’m not interested without upsetting her. I can’t tell her I’m seeing someone without inviting questions I can’t answer.   
If I’m misreading this, and she is just interested in being friends, then I go and say something stupid, I’ll come off as the biggest jerk who thinks every woman wants to sleep with him.   
I eventually realise she’s talking to me, and throw in some noises of agreement and nod my head.   
Good lord, I hope she didn’t ask me anything that I should have had a different response to.   
She doesn’t hit me with her bag, so maybe not.   
We pause for a minute so she can put on her jacket.   
I take a look around me, my eyes falling on a door I hadn’t noticed before.l   
“What’s in there?”   
“Oh, it’s the old break room. We stopped using it after the heating in there went bust, it was cheeper to convert the printing room than fix it. You know this place; cut all the corners!”   
Unattended break room... how interesting... 

 

Drinks are ok.   
It’s not weird, it’s nice, although she does make a few flirty comments, I don’t pay much attention to it.   
We actually end up having a nice time, even though part of my brain is concocting a plan. 

 

SHERLOCK’S POV

Well, as I’ve stated before, prison is dull.   
It’s really, really dull.   
Mycorft has sent me more books, but even those are doing very little to keep me occupied.   
The only thing that’s keeping me sane is the excitement that John and I are going to have sex.  
Of course my brain can’t just let me enjoy this thought though, as it is accompanied with dread.   
What if it really hurts?   
What if it’s really awkward? What if he doesn’t enjoy it?   
What if I’m not good enough for him?   
That’s always been one of my fears.   
Not good enough.   
Mycroft was the smart one, as he constantly reminded me, as the little voice in my head continues to do so.   
‘Not good enough’  
‘Not good enough’   
‘Not good enough’   
“Sherlock?”  
Johns voice breaks me from my thoughts, and despite nearly all of my worries centring around him, the second I look up at him, it all melts away.   
“Can I talk to you a second? Actually, I need to show you something. Come.”  
He nods his head to the right, then leads me in that direction down the hall.   
“Where are we going?”  
“Hang, on. Hang on. Actually, close your eyes.”  
I frown at him, but close them anyway. He takes my hand, and leads me for the remainder of the walk.   
“John... I-“  
“Ok, you can open your eyes.”   
I do as he says, and my eyes fall on something I wasn’t quite expecting.   
A room, an old break room I think, has been decorated with fairy lights, actually, Christmas lights that dangle from the ceiling, and a blanket is hung off the back of the sofa, pegged up on a bookcase and a table, creating a canopy over a pile of blankets, pillows and sofa cushions.  
“Wow.”   
Why did I say that?   
I don’t say things like that.  
“Wow.”  
Why am I still saying it?  
“This is beautiful.”  
Is someone else controlling my words?  
“Ok, ok,” John starts, and grabs me by the shoulders. “I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, or trying to coheres you, or anything, I mean we can just spend time here cuddling, or we can forget the whole thing- I shouldn’t have have done this. I’m sorry, I-“   
“I want to have sex with you.”  
Now, I know I was in control when I said that.  
John doesn’t look like he’s sure I said it at all though.   
He stares at me for a little bit longer before taking a deep breath.   
“Are you sure?” He asks cautiously. “This isn’t just because I sprung this on you, and now you feel like you have to-“  
“No, no, it’s not.”   
I step towards him, and press a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth.   
“I love you... and I want to have this experience with you. I only hesitated when I thought we wouldn’t have time to...”  
He’s only about a centimetre away from me, his deep blue eyes staring in to mine.  
I utter the next few words as a breathy whisper.   
“You know?”   
He nods, and licks his lips.   
“Look, I’ve wanted you for a long time, the only thing that had me deterred was the knowledge that I wouldn’t be able to hold you afterwards, kiss you gently, tell you how much I love you...”   
We’re standing very close to each other now, our chests are centimetres apart, our hips are touching, our faces close as we breathe each other’s air.   
We close the distance, and share a soft, tentative kiss.   
“But no one knows we’re here... my next shift doesn’t start for another four hours.”   
“That’s plenty of time.” I murmur in a breathy whisper gassing his lips.   
“Are you sure...?”   
“Yes.”   
I bring my arms up and wrap them round his neck, and he pulls me to him by my hips.   
“Yes.” I reinstate as I begin unbuttoning his shirt.   
He’s quick to reciprocate, and pulls my prison issued cotton/poly blend shirt over my head, leaving me in my vest. Almost instantaneously, a rush of self loathing hits me like a bulletproof train as I catch his eyes falling on my track marks. He notices my trepidation, and without a word, begins trailing his lips down my arm, pressing kisses to each purple bruise.   
Our eyes meet in a lust filled stare as he presses one final kiss to my hand.  
“You are beautiful.” He says softly, nipping at my earlobe.  
He tightens his grip on my hips, and pulls me to him at such an angle that my erection brushes up against his.   
I let out a quiet whimper, but John definitely hears it, I can tell that much by the grin that appears on his face.   
“Can I take your trousers off?” He asks after a moment, already slipping his hand down between my trousers and briefs.   
My mouth gapes in a silent gasp as I nod my head, my hips arching forwards.   
It’s not like he’s never seen me at least partially naked before, but now he’s become notably cautious due to the knowledge that this action will lead to a lot more than our previous interactions.   
Somewhat gingerly, he slips the elastic waistband of my trousers down over my hips to my ankles. I quickly kick off my shoes and discard the trousers also.   
John moves his hands beneath my thighs, and pulls me up so my legs can wrap around his waist.   
God, his erection is rubbing between my thighs, and fucking hell its getting me so wet for him, the tip of my cock leaking pre-cum at an alarming rate.   
He walks us over to the blanket fort, and gently lays us down so that I’m straddling his waist. Without hesitation, I begin grinding my hips down on his length, and I am genuinely concerned that I’m going to cum just from this, untouched.   
“God, you’re so beautiful.” John repeats, his voice breathless and husky, and fuck, it goes straight to my cock.   
I reach down between us and begin fiddling with the cool metal of his belt buckle. He lifts his hips to allow me to slide his trousers down along with his underwear, and suddenly, it all becomes very real.   
His rock hard, dripping, not to mention generously sized cock is supposed to fit inside me.   
I have to fit him inside of my body.   
I can feel myself seizing up at the thought, my nails digging in to his shoulders.   
“Baby, we don’t have to do this.”   
Johns voice is still low and husky, but it’s got an underlying gentle tone to it, too.   
I can tell he’s not just saying this in the hopes that I will brush off his concern and agree, but he genuinely means it. I can see the sincerity in his deep blue orbs as he stares up at me.   
I just feel myself sinking in to them, and god I almost hate myself for it, but I trust him whole heartedly.   
I lean in towards him, my voice a hushed, demure plead.   
“I want all of you tonight.”  
I feel him throb beneath me and I hear his breath hitch.   
We don’t need to exchange anymore words, but our lips find their way back to each other without them.   
It’s hot and passionate as he darts his tongue in to my mouth and slips his fingers in to the waistband of my underwear.   
I give him an affirmative nod before he slides them down.  
There is nothing between us now.   
We are both completely naked, for what I realise, is the first time.   
It’s always been rushed, it’s always been quiet, secret moments hidden away in cupboards, in the bubble, pressed against the wall, on desks, under tables, but now, now we’re here.   
It’s not a king sized bed in a luxury hotel, there aren’t any candles, there aren’t any roses, we didn’t have a nice dinner, we don’t have any champagne, but I don’t care.   
It’s Christmas lights, not candles; it was orange juice and pasta for dinner; it’s not a king sized bed, it’s sofa cushions adorn with pillows and blankets, but I don’t care.   
The only thing that matters is John.   
It would be John in a five star hotel, it will be John in an old break room.   
It’s John, and that is what I care about.   
That is all I care about.  
I get drawn out from my thoughts by johns lips on my neck, his teeth just grazing my skin.   
“God, I want to be inside you so bad.”   
I moan loudly, and keen in to his touch.   
Oh, fucking hell, his tip is rubbing in between my legs, and fuck, oh god...  
“I ummm... do you know what we need to do now?” John asks cautiously, gently dragging his fingers down the column of my spine...  
I assume he means preparations, so I nod my head somewhat bashfully.   
“Do you have...?”  
John looks almost embarrassed as he reaches over to pull out a small bottle of what I assume is lube and a small, foil packet from his trouser pocket.   
“I didn’t want to presume, but umm...” he explains. “I didn’t want to be unprepared if... you know?”   
“Yeah.”   
John nods once before leaning in to kiss me again, not like before, but soft and gentle.   
“Do you want to get on your back?”   
I hesitate only briefly before dismounting him, and rearranging ourselves so that I’m on my back, propped up on a pillow with him so that he’s sat between my legs.   
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He groans as he stares down at my hole, his eyes glazed over in what I think might just be awe.   
I’ve never felt more exposed in my entire life.   
It’s kind of hot.   
“Is this still ok?”   
“Of course.” I say, although I’m not entirely sure it is.   
It’s not that I don’t want this, it’s just that it will be weird and uncomfortable to have johns fingers inside of me.   
“Stop me at any point, ok?”   
He places a hand on my knee and squeeze.   
“Ok.”   
He reaches for the lube, and coats his fingers in a generous amount before squirting some more around my entrance.   
I wince at how cold it is and shoot my head up.   
“Sorry, should have warned you.”  
“It’s ok.”  
“Is it alright if I keep going?” He asks softly, his hands sliding up my thighs.   
“Yes. Please.”   
He crawls closer to me and presses his lips back to mine.   
I feel a shudder run through my entire body as he circles my rim with his calloused finger.   
“Still ok?” John murmurs against my lips.   
“Yeah.”   
My breath is shaky and raspy as I throw my head back.   
I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips when I feel him push inside my channel. 

 

JOHN’S POV

I can’t believe this is actually happening.   
Sherlock is lying beneath me, his hands gripping my arms as I push my finger in and out of his tight, virgin hole. He’s not as relaxed as I’d like him to be, but he doesn’t seem unhappy. I ask him anyway, and he assures me with a nod and the invitation of a kiss.   
“Is this Alright?”  
He doesn’t look to enthused, but he nods his head all the same.   
I add another finger after a moment, and he lets out a whine.   
“You ok?”   
He nods and blinks profusely.  
“Sure?”   
“Yes... Yes, it’s- mmm... I won’t lie, it’s weird.”  
I have experimented on myself before, and I know how odd it feels right up until it gets really, really good.   
I’ve never had enough time to see how long his refractory period is, so I don’t want to make him cum yet, just in case.   
I go back to kissing him, my accuracy a little hindered on account of how addled my brain is by arousal.   
I’m so hard and I’m not even inside him yet.   
I should probably speed things up a little, so I push a third finger inside him.   
“Oh!” He gasps all of a sudden, his eyes going wide.   
“Alright?”  
“Yes- ahh...” he groans, arching his back off the cushions. “That’s good...”   
I continue to work him on my fingers for a little bit longer, drawing low moans and whines from his beautiful parted lips.   
“Do you think you’re ready?” I ask him when I feel as though he’s reasonably stretched.   
He exhales a shaky breath as he nods his head.   
“Yes.”   
I disentangle myself from Sherlock to reach over for the condom.   
I notice him flinch a little when his eyes fall on the foil packet grasped between my fingers.   
“You ok?”   
“Yes, it’s just... it’s all very real. I’m excited about it, though.” He says, reaching forward to grip my hand. “Just a little anxious.”   
I take his hand in mine, and press a kiss to his knuckles.   
“I’ll be gentle.”   
He smiles.   
“I trust you.”   
I feel my heart thump in my chest as we gaze at each other. Call it cheesy, call it cliche, but I feel myself falling in love with him even more with every passing second.   
I turn my attention back to the little packet in my hand, and remove the condom from it.   
“Can we do it without, actually?”   
Sherlock’s voice is barely above a whisper as he leans his head up, and props himself up on his elbows.   
I give him a questioning look, and he catches on, thankfully, eliminating my need to actually ask him the question.  
“When I use to ummm... I always used my own needles. I was always careful.”   
He looks positively ashamed of himself as he speaks, his eyes refusing to meet mine.   
“I was tested when I came here, anyway. I’m completely clean.”   
He takes a big sigh, and looks back up at me.   
“I’m clean too, so if you do want to-“  
“I want to feel all of you.”   
I feel my already rock hard cock throb painfully between my legs, even more so when I catch Sherlock’s eyes go directly to it.   
“Alright.”  
Sherlock looks rather pleased as I toss the packet aside and crawl back in between his legs.   
“I think the best way to do this would be if you propped your hips up on pillows.”  
“Ok.”   
He doesn’t look too impressed as I push the pillows beneath him.   
“Well, this is comfortable(!)”  
I frown at him for a moment before grabbing him by the ankles and throwing his legs over my shoulders.   
“How’s this?” I ask in a husky rasp, leaning in to nip at his earlobe.   
“Better.”   
I grin, and press a kiss to the corner of his lips.   
“You ready?”  
He reconnects our lips in a passionate kiss, and sucks my tongue in to his mouth in such a way that I am very concerned that I’ll cum untouched.   
Then he whispers the request I didn’t think I’d hear from him in such words.   
“Make love to me.”

 

SHERLOCK’S POV 

John’s eyes flutter shut and a low groan escapes him.   
I grin, and lean in to kiss his nose whilst his eyes are cast down.   
“Fuck...” He murmurs quietly, a grin playing at his lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, you are.”   
He kisses me again, his skilful tongue carving out my lips.   
“Fuck, I’m so hard for you... god I want you so bad.”   
“I want you too... mmm...” I moan against his lips.   
He pulls back, and his gaze drifts down a little further to linger on my artificially glistening hole.   
“Ok, you ready?” 

Emotions have never really been my thing.   
Well, emotions tied to other people; those have never been my thing.   
Never miss my parents, never want to spend time with my brother, it never bothered me that I didn’t have friends, it just wasn’t something I concerned myself with.   
John makes me feel things.   
I can’t say I always liked it.   
But now, I can’t imagine anything better than giving myself to him, fully.   
Everything I am, my heart, my soul, now my body, I want him to have it. 

Petrified.   
I feel petrified.   
I also feel excited.   
I allow excitement to win out, and offer John an enthusiastic nod.   
“This is going to hurt, but hopefully it will be worth it.”   
I grin at his confidence, and suddenly feel all giddy when I think about how his confidence is not misplaced.   
Based on everything else we’ve done, I can’t imagine this would be different.   
I watch him intently as he reaches for the lube again, and slicks himself up.   
He groans quietly, and closes his eyes as he runs his hand over his length.   
He takes a moment, then returns his attention to me, a look of pure lust on his face as he allows his eyes to roam my exposed, nude body.   
“Alright... Do you want to hold my shoulders? This ummm... this might hurt.” John says as he moves forward to line himself up with my hole.   
I can’t take my eyes off of him as I utter words of agreement and take my arms up to his broad shoulders.   
“You sure you’re ready?”   
Whilst part of me is so glad he’s so cautious, the other part of me is getting really impatient.   
“Yes.” I say definitely, nosing at his cheek.  
He nods, and drops his gaze down between us.   
Oh my god- Christ!   
He’s pressed right up against my entrance now, not inside, not quite, but fuck...   
My heart is beating so fast.   
I can almost hear him counting to three inside his own head before he snaps his hips forward, and pushes inside me. 

Oh, lord mother of fuck! Fucking hell, this hurts like a bitch!  
I’m sure John knows this as I dig my nails in to his shoulders and let out a sharp cry.   
“Fuck... oh god, sorry.”   
John halts his movements and stares at me with a look of fear.   
“I’m so sorry.”   
I shake my head in a gesture of waving him off as I try and ride out the pain, teeth gritted.   
It stings, fuck it stings.  
It feels like someone has lit a fire between my legs, and not in the way that people describe being horny, it actually feels as though I’m burning.   
“Sherlock? Do you need me to stop?”   
I can see that even though he is clearly experiencing intense pleasure, he would stop if I needed him to.   
“No, no.” I say hastily. “Just give me a minute.”   
While I retract my nails from his skin, I keep my grip on his shoulders steady as I try and even out my breathing.   
I can feel tears in my eyes, my throat, threatening to spill over, but none run on to my cheeks, and no sound falls from my lips.   
Biting the bullet and just riding through it might just be the best way to approach this.   
Supposedly, sex is rather nice after the first bit.   
With this in mind, I nod for him to continue.   
He looks hesitant for a moment, then he leans down to kiss me, partly to distract me as he pushes his hips forwards again.   
Fuck, it really hurts!  
Is it meant to hurt this bad?  
“Baby, you need to relax. This is going to be really painful otherwise.” John murmurs, his voice strained.   
I don’t say anything in case the tears that are welling behind my eyes break through my walls, and come flooding out.   
I feel John reach an arm up, and begin to play with my hair, gently tugging at the roots as he combs his fingers through my tresses.   
It soothes me, as I suppose was his intent.  
Our eyes meet, and it’s like for the first time. I feel the same rush of feelings, the same rush of adrenaline, my stomach performs the same flips, my heart does the same erratic beats.   
“Are you Alright?”   
His voice is deep and husky, and I find that this rekindles the arousal dowsed by the panic.   
We reconnect our lips, and the kiss that I enforce provides him with the answer that he needs.   
John rolls his hips forward, pushing his cock even further inside me.   
It increases my pain, but it’s not as intense as the originally induced agony.   
I shuffle my hips a little to try and accommodate him better. It helps a bit, and helps to reduce the twinge in my back.   
He bucks his hips again, and this time it’s not terrible. It’s not painful, more uncomfortable, like a pressure low in my abdomen and at the base of my spine.   
I break the kiss to look down between us and see that he’s not even fully sheathed inside me yet.   
Oh, Jesus.   
“Is this ok?” John rumbles by my ear, his lips ghosting my skin.   
“Yes.”  
I’m proud of how even and calm my voice sounds, hiding the storm that’s curling around inside me.   
I lock my ankles around his neck as he continues to push in to me.   
“Mmnngghh...” John groans deep in his throat as he pushes in to the hilt.   
I myself am getting off purely on the bliss he is evidently experiencing, the only thing holding me back is the unnatural feeling of being invaded.   
He reconnects our lips again in a sloppy, messy kiss, muffling the quiet whimpers that escape me as he begins to pull out.   
It’s uncomfortable, and I have to bite back a whine.   
“Oh!” I gasp out, a sudden wave of pleasure hitting me as he pushes back in.   
“You ok?” He asks hesitantly.  
“Yes, yes- I’m... I’m fine... that felt really good.”   
“Yeah?” He asks with a smirk.   
I lean in, and slip my tongue past his lips.   
“Yes.”   
“Shall I do it again?” He teases with a slow roll of his hips, that fucking hell, has me reeling.   
“God, yes.”   
We continue kissing as he settles in to a rhythm, pushing in, then pulling almost all the way out.   
I can’t believe I am actually losing my virginity, losing it to the man I love.   
I can’t believe I love someone enough for this.   
I can’t believe someone loves me because they want to, and not just because they have to.   
I can’t believe that person is someone as amazing as John.   
John, my sexy correctional officer.  
Maybe another time I’ll get him to use his hand cuffs on me...   
Fuck, where did that come from?   
Oh, well, it’s hot.   
“So tight... Jesus, you feel amazing...” He growls, his voice deep and rough.   
He feels amazing too.   
I don’t tell him with sentences, but I’m certain he knows this by my moans and the claw marks I am almost certainly leaving on his shoulders.   
“Oh, god... John...”  
Oh, it’s good, it’s really good.   
Everything he’s doing, every move, every noise, everything has me on edge.   
“Sherlock...” he moans as he drags his lips down my neck leaving my skin wet and warm.   
“I love you so much...”   
I arch my hips off the cushions to meet his thrusts, and let out a low whine as I murmur words of love back to him.   
Unfortunately, I feel my legs start to cramp, so I’m forced to take them down from his shoulders, and instead wrap them around his waist.   
From this angle, he doesn’t go as deep.   
It’s easier to kiss him now though, so I can’t complain too much.   
He evidently isn’t pleased either as he slows down.   
“Can we change positions?” He rumbles, his voice practically a growl that causes me to start weeping.   
“Sure.” I utter in a breathless moan, willing to comply to whatever he thinks is best.   
He stills his hips completely, and reaches under me so one of his hands is on the small of my back. Then, he lifts me up so I’m straddling his lap.   
“Ohhhhmnnghh...” I groan as I sink down so I’m fully seated on his cock.   
“Mmmm... fuck- oh... are you... are you alright like this?”   
Fuck, it’s a stretch.   
I’ve never felt so full in my life.   
I can feel every inch of him, and fuck if that doesn’t have me ready to cum right now.   
“Definitely.”   
I find his lips again in a hungry assault, and bring both hands up to cup his face.   
He runs his hands up my back as he thrusts his tongue in and out of my mouth.   
I begin rocking my hips and grinding down on him, my mouth agape as he hits spots inside of me I didn’t even know I had.   
Oh fuck, his lips have travelled down my chest, and he’s drawn my nipple in to his mouth, and oh god, his tongue is circling my skin, his teeth are grazing the pebbled flesh-   
Oh god, oh god.   
“Hold- hold on...” john pants, bring his hands to my waist to still my movements.   
“What? What is it?”   
He shuffles me about a little bit before bucking his hips up, ramming his cock in to me with substantial force, and then he hits something, and my fucking god!   
“Fuck!” I exclaim involuntarily, my eyes flying wide.   
A wide grin appears on johns face at my reaction.   
“What... what the fuck was that?”   
“That my darling...” He drawls as he mouths at my jaw. “Was your prostate. Being a medical student does have the oddest perks.”  
I would laugh, but fuck... I can’t... I can’t...   
“Ohhhh....” Is the only pathetic sound I manage to garble out.   
Oh my god, he’s going again, thrusting his cock in to me with abandon, making my toes curl.   
“Joooohhhnnn...” I moan, my voice bouncing just as I do on his lap.   
“Fuck, you feel so good... so good... so... oh god- mmnngghh...”   
I am amazed that I have lasted this long, but it’s not going to last much longer.   
My abdomen is pulsing, tight and tense, my inner walls all clenching, my raging hard on throbbing almost painfully between us.   
Oh god, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-

 

JOHN’S POV

Fucking hell, he feels so good. He’s so tight around my cock. I’m buried so deep inside him, and he’s taking it so well. I don’t think he’s ever looked more alluring than he does right now with his head thrown back, eyes closed as he bounces on my dick.   
His moans are growing sharper, more like whimpers now as he gets close.   
God, I’m glad he’s close because I know I am.   
Oh fuck, just the reminder that I get to cum inside him nearly has me shoot off right there.   
“Baby...” I start, trying to use his hips to moderate and control the speed at which he slams down on my almost painful erection. “Are you going to cum for me?”   
“Yes- oh god yes, John-“ He pants, desperately trying to speed up again.   
“Cum for me then.”   
He bucks his hips with abandon, grinding on to me as if his life depends on it.   
We’re not even kissing anymore as we time our thrusts to meet each other.   
“Auuuh...” Sherlock lets out a strangled moan, suddenly digging his nails in to my shoulders.   
I feel his channel clenching down around my cock, and fuck I’m gonna cum...  
“Ah- ah- mnngg- oh! Oh! OH! J- Jo- oh- JOHN!” Sherlock howls loudly as he reaches his orgasm.   
His eyes are screwed shut, and his mouth is parted, all sorts of ungodly sounds falling from him as ropes of creamy, sticky fluid shoot from the end of his cock.   
The sight of him coming undone and the intense heat of his spasming channel clamping around me just pushes me over the edge.   
“Gaaaah!” I cry out as what may be the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced in my entire life hits me like a double decker bus.   
I cum hard deep inside him, causing him to scream.   
He’s still whimpering when I return to Earth.   
His head is lolling about as if it’s suddenly becoming to heavy for the rest of him.   
“John...” He says simply as he drops his head down on to my shoulder.   
His breathing is harsh and laboured, and his heart his thrumming away so harshly I can feel it in my bones.   
There’s something wet touching my skin.   
Shit, he’s crying.  
“Baby? Are you alright?” I ask, more panic cutting through my voice than I’d like to.   
He pulls back, and his aqua eyes are brimming with tears.   
“Shit, did I hurt you?”  
“No, no.” He says quickly, his voice raspy and chocked up. “I don’t... I don’t know why I’m crying.”   
“It’s ok.”   
I lean in, and pepper kisses all over his cheeks, tasting salt on my lips.   
“I’m here... I’m here...” I murmur softly as I kiss him. “It’s perfectly normal to feel a little emotional.”   
I feel him wrap his arms around my shoulders and nuzzle his face in to the crook of my neck, murmuring sounds of understanding.   
We sit for a moment whilst I trace patterns on his back and he breathes softly in to my ear.   
“You doing ok?”   
He leans back, and nods his head. He’s not crying anymore, so I suppose that’s a good thing. He grimaces after a pause, and looks down between us.   
“It’s coming back out.” He whimpers in discomfort, wriggling about on my sensitive cock.   
“Mmmm... ok, ok. Here, lie back.”  
I gently lower him down on to the cushions, and ever so slowly start to pull out.   
Sherlock whimpers in his overstimulated state, arching his hips and kicking his legs.   
When I pull out, what looks like a river of cum spills out of him and trickles on to the cushions. I quickly check him for bleeding. His rim is smarting and looks very sore, but he’s not bleeding.   
“Are you Alright?”   
He does his best to nod, a breathless chuckle escaping him.   
I crawl up to kiss him, and I am positively surprised when he grabs my face in both hands and kisses me with a fierce passion.   
“Did you enjoy that?”  
“God, yes. So much.”   
He grins, and I can feel myself relax.   
“Thank you for this.” He says after a moment as he rolls out from under me, instead moving to lie on my chest.   
“Thank you for being you.”   
I bring my hand up to run a hand through his disheveled ebony curls.   
His eyes are dark and wide, his lips bruised and glistening, a flush spread on his high cheeks.   
“I love you.”   
I beams down at me, and presses a kiss to my lips.   
“I love you too.”   
He curls up against my side, and nuzzles his head in to my chest as I wrap my arms around him.   
“Can we sleep for a while?”   
I scramble around beside me for my watch.   
“Of course. I’d better set an alarm though.”   
We lay like that, legs intertwined, fingers interlocked as we drift off to sleep.   
God, I love him so much.


	14. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the comments! So glad you enjoyed!   
> I really tried to keep this chapter real. It’s also not as depressing as the title makes it out to be 😆

JOHN’S POV

 

Each morning, I wake up, and my bed is empty.   
It’s empty, because Sherlock isn’t with me.   
I hate opening my eyes, and seeing the empty space beside me. Empty, alone, empty, no one, no body, empty, empty empty-   
When I open my eyes this time, the space beside me isn’t empty.   
Sherlock is beside me.   
Sherlock.   
He’s still sound asleep.   
I’ve never seen him sleeping before.   
He looks so... peaceful.   
I’ve never seen him look peaceful.   
There are many words that could be used to describe Sherlock.   
Peaceful is never one of them.   
He’s always on the alert, like a meerkat, looking around him, deducing, the cogs in his head constantly turning about.   
But now, he’s calm, relaxed, unguarded.   
His dark locks frame his face, a few stray, ebony curls hanging over his brow-bone; the Christmas lights casting multicoloured shadows about his porcelain skin.   
My eyes travel down his neck to the angry red/purple blemishes covering his collarbone.   
Whoops.   
As much as I want to leave him relaxed and docile, I only have half an hour before my shift starts, and the last thing I want to do is leave him to wake up alone.   
I slowly move towards him, and gingerly press my lips to his.   
His eyelids flutter open to reveal orbs almost amber in colour.   
He doesn’t move for a moment, he doesn’t say anything either.   
We just stare at each other.   
He doesn’t need me to do anything, he doesn’t need me to say anything. He just needs me to be here.   
He still doesn’t say anything, but he wriggles closer stretches his legs out to tangle them with mine.   
As the minutes go by, he moves closer to me, and we become intertwined in more ways.   
Currently, my legs are between his, one of my hands is lost in his dark tresses, and my other hand is joined with his, resting on his hip, our fingers are laced.   
When he does eventually speak, his voice is strained and thick with sleep.   
“I’ve never really... felt... before.” His eyes are down, staring at our hands. “But last night... I felt everything.”   
When his eyes meet mine, they’ve changed colour again. Silver.   
He nuzzles his nose against mine, then rests his head against my chest.   
“Thank you for loving me.”   
His voice is just above a whisper, but I hear him.   
I place my fingers under his chin, and tilt his head so he’s forced to look at me.   
I can’t find the words to tell him that loving him is no arduous task, that in fact it is one of, if not the greatest joy that I have the fortune of knowing. Then I realise, I don’t need the words.   
The smile on his face says he can hear all the things I want to tell him over the silence. 

 

SHERLOCK’S POV

 

I could lie here forever.   
I could stay here, wrapped up in John’s arms for all eternity.   
We lay in silence, just appreciating each other, something we never get to do.   
No matter how in-tune we are with each other, we run in very different circles. This prison, this hell hole... it’s my home, for now at least.   
This is his job.   
He gets to go home at the end of the day.   
I have to stay behind. 

We have a few moments together, but those moments are always ‘a moment where I don’t have to be supervised’ and ‘a moment where he’s not on duty’.   
It’s never just... a moment.   
Apart from today.   
Forget our different circles, now... now we are in our own little bubble. 

“You’re so beautiful.”   
Johns husky voice breaks the silence.   
He reaches his arm out, and cups my cheek in his warm, calloused hand.   
I smile and keen in to his touch.   
“My god, earlier...” His lips move down to nip at my neck. “When I was making love to you... you’ve never looked more stunning.”   
A blush creeps on to my cheeks as the memories of what we did rise to the surface.   
The insides of my thighs are still wet with his cum.   
I feel my previously dormant cock start to stir between my legs, awoken by not only that thought, but also the sensuous feeling of johns lips on my skin.   
“Careful...” I mumble in to his hair. “Careful not to leave a mark... I have visitation today...”   
“You won’t be flashing your nipples to anyone today though, will you?”  
“Umm... no-“ I cut myself off when I feel his lips decent to the sensitive buds, which immediately perk up under his tongue.   
“Jooohhnnnn...”   
I feel him smile briefly before drawing one of my nipples in to his mouth.   
“Oh...”   
He sucks on the bud itself and the soft skin around it, my body responding of its own accord as I find my pelvis tilting forwards.   
Suddenly, he stops.  
“What’s wrong?” I ask cautiously, scanning his face.   
“I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.”   
And just like that, the bubble is burst.   
He has to go back to work.   
He sits up, and stretches, arching all of the well developed muscles in his back.   
I bite my lip to silence any embarrassing noises.   
He feels my eyes on him, and turns back to face me.   
“Fuck, I don’t want to leave you.”  
He grabs my face in his hands, and pulls me in to a desperate kiss.   
“It’s ok. I’m ok.” I murmur against his lips.   
He swallows and nods his head somewhat lethargically.  
We pull apart, and go about retrieving our clothes. I stand up to reach for my shoes, but almost immediately topple over and fall back down on to the cushions.   
“You alright?”   
John asks, crawling up behind me and squeezing my shoulders.   
“Bit wobbly.”   
“Weak in the knees?”   
John’s voice is a husky purr by my ear as he nips at my skin.   
“Yes actually- oh...” I chuckle as I realise what he’s implying.   
He grins, then gets up to look for his trousers.   
Once I’m dressed, I sit back and watch as john finishes buttoning up his shirt.   
Once again, he is a prison guard, and I am a prisoner.   
John notices my disposition, and holds his arms out to me.   
“You know...” he starts, pulling me to him by my hips. “one morning... we will wake up beside each other... and stay like that for the rest of the day.” He murmurs as he presses kisses in to my hair.   
“Knowing that is what’s keeping me going.”   
He smiles, and connects our lips in a chaste kiss.   
We hold hands for a moment, then John steps out the door.   
“Have a good day at work, honey.” I tease, still holding his hand.   
He laughs, and steps back to kiss me once more.   
“I love you.”  
“I love you too.”   
He squeezes my hand, then departs down the hall.   
I watch him go, the limp in his leg now completely gone.   
Even though I’m now alone, I don’t feel lonely.   
I can see the hickeys John left on my skin, I can smell his aftershave in the air... I can still feel his cum inside me.   
I remain in the room for a moment whilst I calm myself down, adjust my shirt so the hickeys are covered, then leave down the hall in the opposite direction to John.   
Fuck, my legs are jelly. My hips hurt. My back hurts too. So does my rim...  
Damn it, everything hurts.   
As I pass through the halls, I catch sight of the clock on the wall.   
10:56  
Shit, Mycroft will be here any second.   
I go to quicken my pace, but a shooting pain sears through my body and up my spine. Waddling it is then.   
As I go through inspection, I can only be grateful that if the guard notices how red and sore my rim is, he doesn’t say anything.   
I enter the room, and spot my brother sat at the middle table.   
“Brother, dear.”  
“Mycroft.”   
I offer him a nod before sitting before him.   
“I got you a coffee.”   
He passes me a styrofoam cup, along with a packet of crispy M&Ms.  
“Thank you.”  
The coffee cup is hot in my hands.   
I take it to me lips, and gingerly swallow a few sips.   
The coffee, dark and bitter, but sweetened with sugar brings me warmth as it washes down my throat.  
Oh, how many wondrous yet clumsy metaphors one could apply to myself and a certain blond...   
Speaking of, he has just entered the room, and is now sat behind the desk.   
He catches my eye almost immediately, and winks at me.   
“You’ve had sex.” Mycroft remarks all of a sudden.   
He says it with an air of surprise, but his voice is as mellifluous and even as ever as he sips on his tea.   
I on the other hand, am not so cool, and nearly choke on my own beverage.   
“I have not.”  
“Please.” He chuckles mirthfully. “Don’t bother lying to me, Sherlock. It does not work.”  
He runs his beady eyes over me, and I have to resist the urge to pull my shirt collar up to hide the hickeys I know aren’t on view.   
“I can read the lies in your voice, your lack of a nutritious diet in your complexion, and your sexual endeavours in your walk... right down to the very position... can’t say I’m surprised.” He mutters the last bit in to his styrofoam cup, a faint smile tugging at his lips.   
I glare at him, but this only seems to broaden his grin. He falters after a second, and breathes in deeply.   
“In fact...” He pauses to sniff. “I could even tell you who it was with.”   
I narrow my eyes at him in challenge.   
“That guard on the way in.” He tilts his head in Johns direction... “you’re wearing his aftershave.”  
I shouldn’t be surprised he knows all of this. Like myself, he can read a persons’ occupation in their hands, and their marital status in their clothes.   
“Well, I hope you’re being safe.”  
“Shut up, Mycroft.”


	15. Our break room moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock slowly lets John in on his fantasises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shit. 😆

JOHN’S POV

With the discovery of the abandoned break room, our precious, stolen moments become a lot more frequent in their occurrence. Of course they’re still rushed, but it’s worth it.   
Once Sherlock had recovered from our first encounter, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him again.   
I cornered him after lunch, dragged him in to the break room, and fucked him against the wall. I had to put my fist in his mouth to keep him from crying out. I slammed in to him, surely leaving dark bruises on his creamy hips.   
I didn’t manage to silence him when he came, a loud groan ripping through his body, startling us both as he finished all over my clothed thigh.   
We’d been terrified someone had heard us that time round, so a short hiatus ensued, but the way Sherlock is looking at me right now says that the hiatus is about to be lifted.   
He quickly looks around him before crossing the library floor so he’s standing on one side of a bookcase, and I on the other.   
“Hey.”  
“Hello.” He says as he reaches over for a book and proceeds to pretend to read it.   
“You ok?”   
“Mmmm... you?”   
He flicks his eyes up at mine, a smile playing in them.   
“I’m fine.”   
He moves his fingers over the shelf, and reaches for the hand I didn’t know I’d put before him.   
We both look down at our fingers, barely touching, and smile.   
He glances back up at me then leans in by my ear.   
“Take me somewhere. I need to be fucked.”   
Oh, he is so going to get me fired.   
I waste no time in excusing myself for ‘an important phone call’ and following in Sherlock’s footsteps to the break room.   
He’s behind the door when I enter, and gives me now warning before pounding on me.   
“Mmmm... what’s gotten in to you?”   
I know ever since our first time, it’s like a fire has been lit inside him, overwhelming him with desire and passion, but this is crazy even for him.   
“I thought about what it would be like for you to fuck me on all fours... and I got so hard just imagining it...”  
“Oh yeah?” I find myself asking, even though I have absolutely no problem believing this. He’s rock hard against my thigh as we speak.   
“Yes...” He groans as he slips his hand in to my shirt.   
When did he undo those buttons?  
“I need you.”  
As much as I hate to say it, as much as he hates to hear it; we don’t have time.  
“Please...” He coos, rocking his hips against me.   
I find my body yielding to him, my legs moving to cage his, my arms sneaking around him, my tongue thrusting in to his mouth.   
A act on a whim, grab him by the hips and carry him across the room where I drop him on the counter top, mindful of the presumably out of order, forgotten toaster.   
“What are you...?” He trails off as I pull his prison issued trousers down to his ankles.   
No time to take off his shoes.   
He lets out a quiet moan as I duck my head so I’m in between his legs.   
“John...”   
“Are you all clean?” I ask tentatively, kissing at his thighs.   
“Yes, because I was intending on obtaining sex, but why does that-“   
“Obtaining sex? It’s a miracle you ‘obtain’ any when you put it like that.”   
His giggles quickly turns in to a sharp cry when I run my tongue over his rim.   
“Oh!”   
He makes a grab for my hair, tugging ever so pleasurable at my roots...  
“Oh- mmmnngh...”   
He sounds partially confused at what’s happening, but mostly he’s overwhelmed by pleasure, that much I can tell by the way his eyes are rolling about in his skull.   
“This is... Oh...”   
I push my tongue past his tight ring of muscle. His knees clench around my shoulders and he tugs harshly at my hair as he tilts his pelvis up in to my touch.   
“”Aghhhrrr... joh- John!”   
It doesn’t take much more until he’s sputtering a chorus of groans and sobbing out a warning.   
I quickly place my mouth around his cock to catch his release as he finishes with a breathy sob.   
“Fuuuuck...”   
I remove my head from between his thighs and press a messy kiss to his parted lips.   
“Do you approve?”   
His head lols forwards in a pathetic excuse for a nod as he tries to calm himself.  
“You alright?” I tease, running my hands through his curls.   
“Quite alright. A little spaced though.”   
I chuckle, and press a kiss to his temple.   
As much as I love these moment, they simply remind me that that is all they are. Moments.   
I have my work day, and a ‘moment’ with Sherlock.   
Fuck, when this is over, work will be a brief moment, interlude even, where I have to be away from him. 

 

SHERLOCK’S POV 

John’s lips taste like cum.   
I grimace and wipe the taste on my sleeve.   
I jump down from the counter and shimmy my trousers back on.   
“Ok, then... we should go. I’ll come by for you in the garden before lunch tomorrow?”   
I go to nod my head, but find my neck rigid in place, my body clearly acting on an impulse my incredibly swift brain is yet to run through my thought processes. Sometimes I have difficulty keeping up with it.   
“No.”   
He scrunches his brows; confusion, one of the easiest expressions to read. Perhaps it’s that, or maybe I have just witnessed it more due to the number of individuals I have rendered baffled. Having said that, I have been informed that I rub people up the wrong way all the time, and the look of ‘extremely pissed off’ is still one that is lost on me.   
“That simply won’t work.”  
“Oh...?”  
“That’s not nearly enough time.” I add to save him from further confusion.   
“Oh really? What were you thinking of that requires more time...?” He drawls as he moves to mouth at the shell of my ear.   
“I’m sure we can think of plenty of things.” I say simply when I realise I haven’t exactly tailored that end of my idea.   
John doesn’t seem to see through that, and instead lets out a low groan of appreciation.   
“I like your thinking. Ok then, genius, why don’t you astound me with how you want to carry out this plan?” He murmurs, his teeth gently nipping at my earlobe.   
I find myself keening in to his touch, little whimpers of pleasure escaping my lips as I cling to his shoulders.   
At this, I have one of those oh so caricature like ‘lightbulb’ moments.   
The imagery I have been using as, I believe the term is ‘wank material’, comes to mind.   
“I thought... mmm... we could do something like last time we wanted to get away... But umm... when I disobey you... you take me away to get... disciplined.”   
I hear john’s breath hitch.   
He pulls back and searches my eyes for a moment, blinking in an attempt at comprehension.   
“Sometimes I think I have you figured out... then you say stuff like that and I’m right back to square one.” He pants before smashing our lips together again.   
Although I’m not sure anyone really has me figured out, John is definitely the front runner.   
But that’s because nobody else has even tried.   
When I run my mouth, though they are astounded, people tell me I’m weird, or that I’m a freak, but not John.   
‘Amazing’ that’s what he called me.   
It’s been over a month, and here he is, still thinking the world of me.   
I suppose my adoration of him must be showing on my face as the grin he’s supporting suggests.   
“What are you going all ‘gooey eyed for’?”   
I blush furiously and shake my head at him in a failed attempt at denial.   
“I’m not.”   
He rolls his eyes, unconvinced, then pulls me to him again, and kisses me on the nose.   
“Sure you’re not. Ok, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be somewhere, my darling.”   
“Mmmm, am I?” I grumble as he leads me towards the door.  
“Yes. Now off you go. I’d hate to have to punish you prematurely.”   
I worry my lip between my teeth as I try to refrain from letting out a moan.   
“The hallway is clear. Come on.”   
We go out in to the hallway, and share a parting kiss before going our separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A plot? Oh yes.


	16. Safe word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock start to explore another side of sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long, and that it’s only the one chapter... anyway, I hope you enjoy!

JOHN’S POV 

Well, this is just wonderful.   
The very notion of Sherlock and his little plan has had me all worked up from the moment he mentioned it, and I’m fairly certain I’ve been half hard since.   
It’s only about ten minutes until lunch, so I take my leave in to the garden. 

I managed to find Sherlock yesterday evening just before I left and went over the details of the plan. 

He’ll start with an accidental run in which will evolve in to a full on physical confrontation, and end with me dragging him away in to the old break room.   
Because of the fucked up system, I doubt anybody will question me if I say he needs to be taught a lesson. 

I spot him raking the grass a few yards away, his back turned. 

I walk up behind him, taking in to account how many inmates are going to be whiteness to this. 

I am really going to come off as an asshole, but it’ll be worth it for the minutes alone with Sherlock. 

Said boy tilts his head in my direction, so I know he’s aware of my presence. 

When I’m a few inches away from him, he spins around, and hits my in the shoulder with the end of the rake.

“Oi! Watch yourself inmate!” I bark, shoving him back by my grip on the rake. 

“Don’t stand so close to me in future then.” He quips, narrowing his feline eyes at me. 

Our stand off has caught the attention of the rest of the grounds’ crew, and there are now at least four inmates watching us. 

“What did you say?” I husk, stepping closer to him. 

“Don’t stand so close!” Sherlock yells, and inflicts a well aimed shove to the centre of my chest. 

It’s not actually got any force behind it, although I suspect that a real assault from Sherlock would have much the same results. 

“Hey! Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me what to do?!” 

I grab him by the front of his shirt, and pull him towards me. 

“I’m in charge here, not you.” 

He goes to take a swing at me, but I block his punch, and pin his arm behind his back. 

He lets out a whimper, but the previously established safe word, ‘September’, doesn’t pass his lips. 

“You obviously think you have some sort of authority round here. Let’s change that, shall we?” 

Sherlock is defiantly playing up to the role to the best of his ability, digging his heels in to the ground, cursing, shouting, attempting to break free of my grip on him as I drag him across the grounds.   
A few inmates watch our decent, but none of them intervene. 

We manage to get all the way inside without anybody seeing us, down the corridors and in to the break room.   
The second the door is shut, Sherlock is on me, kissing me like his life depends on it.   
He plunges his tongue down my throat, licks up between my top lip and my teeth, draws my tongue in to his mouth... fuck... 

“You know... I still have my safe word...” 

He pants against my lips as I lead him over to the sofa. 

“Really?” I stammer, my eyes widening even further when he nods in earnest. 

“Cuff me.” 

His voice his strained, breathy, and fuck it gets me going. 

“Fuck, you really are something else, aren’t you?” 

Sherlock mewls in pleasure, and grinders his pelvis in to mine. 

“Right... pants off.”

Niceties are a thing of the past, the desperate lust for one another taking the front seat in both our minds as we rid each other of clothing. 

Sherlock lets out a squeal as I bite at his neck whilst I scrabble about for the cuffs. 

“Sherlock these are metal, they’re gonna-“

“I don’t care.” 

He’s certainly kissing me like he doesn’t care, desperate and hungry too as he claws at my back.  
I reach for his slim wrists, and he’s all too eager in presenting them to me.

“Not too tight.” I tell him as I cuff his hands behind his back. 

He nods in understanding, a seductive grin playing on his lips. 

“Just fuck me already.” 

I don’t need to be told twice, and make no hesitation in prepping him.  
He takes it well, mewling quietly, leaning forwards to bite at my shoulder, sinking his teeth in deeply when I curl my fingers inside his deliciously warm channel. 

He was right, handcuffs were a brilliant idea.   
The way he’s whimpering, the way he’s writhing against me, god it’s mind blowing. 

“Fuck me as hard as you can... hurt me... treat me like the dirty criminal I am...” he gasps in a raspy whine as he rolls his hips up in to my touch. 

“Pull my hair...” 

I do as he asks, making him moan low in his throat. 

He’s completely at my mercy here. 

Oh god, that’s hot...

“Spread your legs.” I rasp by his ear, running my tongue over the shell.

He does as he’s told, quite the phenomenon when it comes to Sherlock. 

I quickly run my fingers back over his rim to make sure he is loose enough before positioning myself between his legs. 

I finally push inside him, ripping a strangled moan from his throat.

“You ok?” I ask, my voice softening from the earthy growl I had previously adopted. 

“If I’m not I’ll tell you...” He remarks with a roll of his hips. 

“Now... I don’t think you should take that tone with me, do you?”   
My voice has returned to a husky rasp as I drag my fingernails down his back. 

He smirks, and runs his tongue over his teeth.

“What are you gonna do to me...?” 

I tug his hair softly and run my hand down his chest to pinch one of his rosy nipples.

“That’s none of your business.” I chide with a snap of my hips. 

“Oh!” He cries out, arching his pelvis up towards me. 

I start to increase my speed, banging my hip bones in to his, making sure to leave bruises. 

“Harder... please...” he begs with a thrust of his own. 

I don’t know what happened to the Sherlock that sat before me only a few months ago trying to figure out how to give me a handjob. 

In his place, lies a harlot, begging that I fuck him harder. 

“Why should I?” I tease, digging my nails in to his thighs. 

“Because I’ve been bad... I deserve to be hurt... bruised... let everyone know that I’m a naughty slut that needs to be put in his place...” 

I think he must have been reading 50 shades of grey...   
Yes, I’ve read it, no I didn’t enjoy it... but you know...   
The words, no matter how cliche they sound, they’re still hot as fuck coming out of Sherlock’s mouth. 

“Please... please...” 

“Well, only because you asked so nicely...” I purr before digging my nails in to the sofa and driving in to him with abandon. 

“Oh-fucking-hell-Yes-Yes-Yes-ah!” He gasps out between thrusts as his eyes roll back.   
“Yes! Oh gaaaahhhd...” 

I reach down between us and grasp his throbbing cock. 

“Oh!” He cries out, involuntarily bucking his hips up. 

“Oh fuck, right there-“ he groans with a roll of his hips. 

He let go of his leaking shaft, and grab each of his legs.   
I push them back so he’s folded over, then just plough in to him without mercy. 

“Agh! Agh! Oh fucking- gaaah!” 

I’m not going to last a second longer in this position.   
Fuck, it feels so good... I’m so deep inside him, I can feel every detail of his warm body. 

He cries out suddenly, arching his back so far I’m worried he’s going to snap in half.   
He groans out my name as he shoots his load all over his stomach, coating his creamy white flesh in his release.   
I give a few more thrusts, making him whimper in his overstimulated state.   
I finally cum with a low groan before collapsing against the backs of his thighs. 

“We are doing that again.” 

Oh god, this boy is going to kill me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John will really come in to his roll as the Dom, I just didn’t feel like he would be so extreme on a first go.


	17. Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes up with a new way to... enjoy... Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short... enjoy!

Paying attention is difficult. 

For starters, I don’t care what Wiggins is telling me. On top of that, all I can think about is John’s sticky release slowly slipping out of me, coating my thighs and soaking my underwear.   
It only reminds me of earlier when I was cuffed before him, completely at his mercy whilst he pounded in to me. 

Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.   
I bite down on the back of my hand to silence myself, and cross my legs as a wave of pleasure goes through me. 

Jesus Christ, I need him again. 

No one warns you what can happen if you’ve never given in to certain impulses before, then all of a sudden... 

I want sex all the time. 

I want hard, rough sex. I want to be fucked until I can’t stand. I want to be covered in marks, I want to be sore all over. I want to know his body better than he knows his own, I want him to know my body better than I do.   
I want to be more a part of him than I am myself. 

Fuck, I have really got to stop thinking like this in the day. 

I squeeze my legs together even tighter, and desperately try and pay attention to wiggins, and... whatever it was he was telling me about...

 

“Sherlock?”

John’s at the foot of my bed.

“John? It’s... 04:00.” I say with a quick glance to the clock on the wall. 

“I know. Now shhh, and come in to the bubble.”   
He walks back on the silent feet of a soldier.  
I follow a moment later. 

When I enter the bubble, John regards me with a smug grin.

“What...?” I ask, furrowing my brows. 

“Bought you a little something.”

His grin broadens further as he presents me with a sleek, black box. 

“What is it?” 

“Open it.” 

I examine the box a moment, taking in the dimensions.

Nope, no idea. 

I slowly open it. 

Well then. 

“John... is this a but plug?” I ask, analysing the small object in my hand. 

“It might even be a vibrating one.” 

John moves closer to me, and places a hand on my hip. 

“It’s remote controlled... That way... I can watch you writhing in pleasure... even if it’s not me who’s touching you.” 

I can’t help the small sound that escapes my lips, nor the pink flush that immediately follows. 

“Now... off you pop. Back to bed.” 

I gape at him as he turns me around by my shoulders, steers me out the door and out in to the darkness.


	18. Buzzzzzz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries out Sherlock’s new toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took ages, I don’t have much time to write at the moment, but I have by no means abandoned this story. Enjoy!

Well, it’s in there. 

It’s the middle of the day, I’m working in the garden, talking to people, and it’s in there. 

I’m too far way from John for it to work to it’s full extent, but it still feels good. Really good. 

“Do you have visitation tomorrow Holmes?” 

I turn my head to face Knight. 

“Indeed. Parents this time. Yourself?” 

Henry doesn’t have either of his parents, but I have observed him attending visiting hours with a variety of friends. 

“Yeah, a friend from my town.”

“How nice.”

All of a sudden, a buzzing starts and an intense wave of pleasure strong enough to force a noise out of my throat hits me. 

“You alright?” Knight asks, taking a step towards me. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Just clicked my ankle.” I explain, rolling my ankle to the side. 

He seems satisfied with this, and turns his attention back to weeding. 

I spin about on my heels, my eyes falling on John about thirty yards from me. 

That bastard. 

My cerulean orbs lock with his gunmetal blues, a devious glint undeniable within their depths. 

He grins, and reaches in to his pocket.  
The buzzing starts again.  
This time it’s stronger.  
My erection is blatantly obvious at this point.  
I need to get out of here. 

Without making a scene, I make my way across the grounds to the greenhouse, and push my way through the doors.  
As soon as I’m inside, the buzzing increases.  
I reach out for the table in front of me, and bear down on it so hard I can feel my nails making indentations in the repurposed wooden surface. 

“Oh god...” I moan quietly, unable to keep my pleasure under wraps. 

“Well, this is most unacceptable.” 

I spin around to face John. 

“Getting yourself all worked up during work hours... tut tut tut.” 

He steps closer so that he’s in between my legs.

“Does it turn you on knowing everyone is watching you? Knowing they can see you like this?” 

His breath is a hot rasp by my ear, one that sends chills up my spine, and blood flooding down to my groin. 

“Are you getting off on this?”

I wearily nod my head against his neck as I support myself against him, traces of his stubble grazing my cheek.

“Dirty boy.” 

I hadn’t noticed I had started rocking my pelvis against him, but he clearly had.  
He was as hard as I was. 

He reached around behind me, and spanked my ass so hard it forced me in to him. 

I let out a noise mixed between a moan and a shriek as I collide with his hard body. 

“Get up on the table.”

I do as I’m told. 

John presses down on my chest till I’m laid out on my back. 

He pulls my trousers down, and slips his head in between my legs. 

“Ooohhh...” I moan loudly when I feel his hot, wet tongue swipe across my slit. 

“John...” 

His mouth is on me now, and oh god it’s taking all of my willpower not to buck my hips up in to his mouth. 

“John... jo- ah fuck!” 

That bastard has turned to vibrator on. 

Oh fucking hell... oh shitttttting hell...

I reach down and fish his hair in my hands, tugging so hard it must be hurting him, but he doesn’t say.  
I clench my legs around his head and dig my heels in to his back... fuck. 

I am completely awash with pleasure. 

Everything he’s ever done to me... god... it’s like I can feel all of it right now in this moment. 

Oh the settings gone up- oh god- oh-oh-oh!

I bolt up right as I sink my claws in to johns scalp.  
Fuck, my orgasm hits me so hard I can’t help but howl.

I drop back on to the table, my arms splayed about beside me, heavy and boneless. 

Thank fuck, the buzzing has stopped. 

I think I would have turned myself inside out in pleasure otherwise. 

John ducks out from between my legs, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“You alright there?” 

I wearily wave an arm at him, words completely failing me. 

“We’ll have to do this again.” He purrs as he leans in to nuzzle my nose. 

Oh I think so.


	19. Read my mind, read my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John asks Sherlock to move in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, things have been busy, and I’ve had a touch of writers block... hope you enjoy!

John’s POV 

2 months.   
He has 2 months left.   
2 months then he’s out, and he gets to go home... does he still live with his parents...? Is he going to come back with me...?   
The idea of Sherlock living with me, the idea of waking up to him first thing in the morning... I sigh in content. 

My fantasy is short lived as I remember he’d have to put down the address when he leaves and he’d get checked up on. They can hardly see he’s living with me.   
I grumble to myself as I march down the corridors. 

Sherlock is curled up on a plastic chair in the common room, book in hand, tea in a mug on the floor, long legs folded up under him. 

There’s a few other people dotted about the room attending to various tasks, watching television, having a chat. 

Sherlock looks up after a moment, a small smile appearing on his face when he spots me. 

I nod my head in the direction behind me, inviting him to follow after me when I depart. 

I look around the corridor before entering the break room. Sherlock appears a moment later. 

“Afternoon.”

“Hiya.” 

He smiles, and steps towards me.   
We exchange an innocent, chaste kiss. 

He stands still a moment, eyes running from my face to my shoes to back again.   
He bats his eyelashes at me as he stares down his nose.   
He’s deducing me. 

“You know you could just ask me what I want instead of doing this.” I chuckle. 

He flicks his eyes back to mine, a blush creeping on to his cheeks. 

“Sorry.” 

He sounds so small right now, like a child who’s been told off for drawing on the walls. 

“I forget I can ask now.”

I quirk an eyebrow, but he’s still not looking. 

“How do you mean?” 

He shuffles his feet and keeps his eyes down. 

“When no one talks to you, you use your own ways of finding out stuff about them. I forget that I don’t need to do that all the time.” 

Any story from his past just makes me want to hug him so close, hold him so tightly that I might break him. 

“I also forget that it’s an invasion of privacy. It’s like looking inside your head...   
I don’t have permission to look there. You’re special, and I don’t want to... I don’t want to do that.” 

He’s started fiddling with his ID card clipped to his waistband. 

“I... I can... I can always see in to peoples’ heads... but hearts... that’s much more private, and I’ve never bothered... it umm... confuses me... but you... I can see in to yours.” 

He’s bright pink by the time he’s finished talking. 

“So what did you what?” 

I can’t help but laugh as I fling my arms around him. 

“I love you... so much...”

“I know.” He says softly as he buries his head in to my neck.   
“I love you... but seriously, why did you ask me here?” He grins as he pulls back. 

“Oh, that. I uhh... was wondering what your plans are once you’re out of here...?”

He quirks his brows. 

“Oh. I... I suppose I’ll go home and deal with the drudgery of my parents, although compared to this place it’ll be like live at the Apollo...”

“Move in with me.” 

That wasn’t how I meant to do that, but oh well, I’ve done it now. 

“Move in with you?”

I nod. 

“Unless you think it’s too soo-“ 

I’m cut off by him slamming our lips together.

“I want to live with you. I want to sleep in your arms every night.” 

I grin, and pull him back for another kiss. 

We eventually go our separate ways down the corridor, me to the cafeteria and him to the common room. 

Not even five minutes later, my radio buzzes. 

“All available guards to B Dorm! Assault on an inmate! Need medical assistance!”

B Dorm. 

That’s Sherlock’s dorm. 

My brain goes in to overdrive as I sprint down the halls, my heart pounding in my chest, pounding so I can run, pounding so I can feel fear. 

When I arrive, there’s one other guard, and Sherlock... soaked in blood... 

...but it’s not his.


	20. 20 minutes earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock recalls what lead to him stood in his dorm covered in blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter! The smut is fun, but this story needs a bit of substance, too.

Sherlock’s POV

There’s shouting. There’s shouting and screaming.  
There’s people flying about, running around.   
It’s a blur.   
Amidst the flurry of blue and beige, I catch sight of John.   
We lock eyes.   
He’s staring at me in horror.   
He looks down at my hands.   
Blood.   
He looks down at the floor. 

Oh...   
Oh yes, that.

 

20 minutes earlier

Bored... bored... god there’s nothing to do round here.   
I wander back to my bunk, perhaps a book will suffice. 

Oh god, what does he want?

Sat on my bed is what someone with more manners than myself would call an unwelcome visitor.   
I, on the other hand, find that “minion of the antichrist” works just fine. 

“What do you want, moriarty?”

“Come now, darling, is that any way to greet a friend?”

“I wasn’t aware our relationship had changed status?”

“Did you not see my status update on Facebook?” He chides softly as he runs his pale, spider like fingers over my bedspread. “I guess not.”

“What do you want?” 

“Well, you’re getting out soon... now see... I simply cannot have that. What am I supposed to do without my... plaything?” 

I huff out a breath in annoyance. I don’t like where this is going. 

He stands up, and steps in close, closer, closer till goes stood right before me.   
I can smell his toothpaste on his breath. 

“Now, I mean I have this little plaything?”

A knife.   
Fuck.   
Fuck, where did he get a knife?

“What should I do with this?” 

I’m backed against my storage unit. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. 

“Shall I tell you? Yes...”

He places a hand on the unit, boxing me in. 

“I could hide it in here somewhere... no, wait, that won’t work, because the guards have no reason to search your bunk... could be a random search I guess... wait, no I hid this in here four days ago, and even you didn’t notice.”

Wait, what?

“You’ve let your guard down... it’s sad, to tell you the truth.”   
He shrugs.   
“So no... that won’t work.” He hangs his head in mock sadness.   
“Maybe I could stab you with it?” 

I almost get whiplash from how fast he whips round and presses the knife against my throat. 

“I could stab you in your pretty little throat...”   
The metal is cold against my skin. If I swallow, he’ll cut me. 

“Mmm, but then you’d die... maybe I’ll stab you in the chest? No, cos that’ll be a few weeks in medical, and then you’ll be out... maybe I should just accept fate and let you go...” 

It would be so easy to let myself believe he’s actually changed his mind, but... 

“Or I could do this.”

My eyes fly wide as Moriarty grabs my hands and plunges the knife in to his own stomach. 

He gasps as the cold steel pushes in to his flesh, warm blood collecting on the front of his khakis. 

I yank my hands free, and fall back away from him. 

“What have you done?!” 

Even now, he’s eyes are laughing, laughing as he falls to the floor.


	21. Fucked system

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moly comes up with a rather unethical way to clear Sherlock’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! :)

John’s POV

“You alright?” 

A gentle hand is placed on my shoulder, and a cup of tea placed before me. 

“Yeah, yes I’m fine. Thanks for asking, and uh, for the tea.” 

Rosie smiles as she sits opposite me. 

“Terrible about that inmate, isn’t it?”

We both look up to see Moly has wandered in to the room, Tupperware box of what I think is risotto grasped in her hands. 

“I mean, I knew he and Sherlock always had issues, but I always saw Sherlock as the victim... never saw him as the violent type... maybe he just snapped... Sorry, I’m rambling.” 

“No, no it’s fine, love. Tea?” 

“Don’t know if I should. Caffeine.” She explains, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. 

“I think there’s decaf...?” Rosie ventures.

“Oh, then yes please.”

Moly turns to me. 

“I’ve seen you with Sherlock a fair bit. Are you just as surprised or am I complete idiot for missing something?” 

“No... I’m just as surprised as you.” 

Moly smiles sadly. 

“I’m amazed one of them didn’t get moved. The amount of times moriarty has sent Sherlock down to medical...” moly repeats. 

“What can I say? System is fucked.” Rosie huffs as she places a cup of tea in front of moly. 

“So what’s going to happen to him now?” 

“He’s in SHU, I’d imagine. They’ll take guard testimonies, then they’ll decide what to do about him.” 

I feel my heart dropping as I picture Sherlock alone, locked up with his own worst enemy... 

“I really can’t believe he did this... Lestrade interviewed him a little while ago. He can’t believe he did it either.”

“Maybe he didn’t.” 

Both girls turn to look at me. 

“We all know inmates try and get in the way when someone’s date is coming up. Maybe that’s what’s going on here.” 

I try and keep the hope out of my voice, not only so they don’t get suspicious, but so as not to make myself any promises.

“Maybe. But is moriarty really crazy enough to stab himself?” 

“Moriarty got put in juvie for blowing up his school.”

Moly sputters on her tea. 

“He tried to blow up his school?”

“Oh he didn’t try to, he succeeded. He’s been in the system a long time... No clue how he ended up in minimum.” 

“System’s fucked.” I parrot.

 

“My interview is in like five minutes. Fun.”

“Thought you weren’t on duty then...?” I venture as I finish off my tea. 

“Yeah, they just want to ask what I know of the two of them. Honestly, I don’t believe Holmes did do it, and if he did, I bet he had good reason. In fact, if I had been on duty, I would just say he didn’t do it.”

I mean of course I would do that, but then I would have to worry about favouritism... wait, why is she doing it? 

“But, they already know I wasn’t in that dorm.” 

“They don’t know I wasn’t.” 

We both turn to face Moly. 

“What?”

“I’m a doctor. I can go where I please without question. Maybe I came to talk to someone. No one needs to know I wasn’t.” 

“Why would you do that?” I ask cautiously, trying not to get too excited about it all. 

“There’s no way he did this. I know him well, remember. He’s always in medical.” She reinstates, eyebrows raised. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this? I mean you could lose your job if they investigate this.”

“Well they won’t, will they? System’s fucked.”


	22. Emotions are cause for confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is released from SHU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short

Sherlock’s POV

Emotions have always confused me.   
I don’t understand why people cry at weddings. I don’t understand why people laugh when they’re nervous. I don’t understand when people are mad at me. But what confuses me most is how emotions make people do things, manipulating them like puppets.   
People push their friends out of the way of bullets and take them instead. Why? Because they love them? 

So here I lie, alone. Alone, locked in solitary confinement. Well, that is generally what is meant by solitary confinement. It is a special gift to be alone surrounded by people... 

I’m surrounded by lights... beautiful lights... 

God, doing drugs is a terrible idea. 

 

Now that I think about it, if I hadn’t been high as a kite, I still don’t think I would have understood what was going on. 

“Right, back to minimum.”

“Back to minimum?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Don’t ask questions, just walk.”

 

“Holmes, you’re back! We thought they’d locked you up and thrown away the key.”   
I’m vaguely aware being shouted in my direction.   
Knight... Henry... yeah... 

John. Where’s John? 

I have to.. have to find... 

Someone grabs my arm, and I’m pulled down a corridor. 

Mary... Rosamund Mary? 

What is...?

“What?” 

“I know about you and John.”


	23. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John realises he hasn’t been as secretive as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I posted this already, but just realised I hadn’t 😆

John’s POV

 

Fuck, I hate this shift.   
Obviously, there are other things playing on my mind, but this just isn’t helping.   
It’s such an awkward time between meals.  
When ones while future is flipped upside down, one must focus on these menial things.

“Hey.” 

Rosie. 

“Hey.” 

“Brought you some soup. Wasn’t sure if you’d eaten.”

“Oh, thanks.” She smiles, and sits beside me. 

“How comes your over here?”

“Oh, it’s my break. No one was around in the break room. And...”

Oh I don’t like this.

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

I try to make my swallow as inconspicuous as possible as I nod for her to go ahead. 

“I saw your face when moly said she’d make a statement. He really seems to matter to you.” 

She eyes me over her coffee cup as she takes a sip. 

Fuck.

What do I say? There is no instruction manual for when someone finds out about your prison affair! 

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

The longer I don’t say anything, the worse this is going to get.

“I... I just... I’ve had to step in a few times when people have given him trouble, and I dunno, I guess I’ve grown fond of him.” 

She almost seems like she believes me... just for a second. 

“That yesterday... that wasn’t the reaction of someone who’s ‘fond’ of someone.” 

This time, my gulp is as conspicuous as a slap across the face. 

“I won’t get you in trouble.” She says after a moment, taking another sip of her tea. 

“Thank you.” 

“At least now I know why you never fancied me.” She teases lightheartedly, a grin on her face as she squeezes my arm.   
“We’ll get him out of there. Have faith.” 

With that, she departs, leaving me with a rock in my stomach... someone knows my secret.


	24. Penguin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock returns to minimum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. Enjoy!

Sherlock’s POV

Back in minimum. Back with John. 

John.

Shit, I have to find him. 

Just as soon as my legs stop wobbling. 

Fuck, this was a terrible idea. 

You can find whatever you want down in max, so provided you make some promises, you can get those who come down to clean SHU to give you things.

Bad idea, bad idea. 

John. There’s John. 

Oh, he’s got three eyes... fuck what did I take...? 

Oh shitting hell. 

“Sherlock? Sherlock?”

Shit, I’ve missed him. 

I seem to miss the exchange where he grabs my arm and pulls me in to a room somewhere down a quiet corridor. 

“Thank fuck you’re back. Moly ‘testified’ against moriarty. That bastard has finally been kicked down to maximum where he belongs... Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Sad... no, hurt. He looks hurt. 

Shit, I’m doing something wrong. Haven’t seen him in days... miss him... people hug when they see someone they’ve been missing.   
Right, hug him. 

He puts his arm forward, and stops my attempted embrace. 

“What have you taken?”

“John, I haven’t seen you for days, and this is how-“

“Shut up. What did you take?”

I don’t know why I even bothered that approach.  
Oh my god, I’ve got seven fingers on this hand... 

“I...”  
My voice catches in my throat. 

“I don’t know. But whatever it was, I don’t recommend it. Kept seeing penguins the first day I took it.” I wheeze out a pathetic chuckle before my knees go all wobbly, and I fall.   
Except I don’t fall, because John has caught me. Of course he has. 

“Right, you’re gonna lie down, and I’m going to check your vitals. I don’t think you’ve OD’d, but I’d rather know for sure.”

It’s nice having him look after me.   
He finished checking me about five minutes ago. Now he’s just holding me, and stroking my hair. It’s nice. 

“I’m sorry.” I murmur as I lean in to a soft cheek caress. 

He pauses for a moment. 

“It’s ok.”

His pause says otherwise. 

“I promise I’m not going back to that stuff... that shitting stuff that landed me in here. I promise, I pro-“ My voice cracks, and I start... crying? 

“I... I’m so sorry, John.” I wail pathetically, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt with my shaking hands. 

“I’m so... I’m fucking useless... I can’t... I just needed to turn my brain off... just for a minute... just to make it stop. I...” 

I don’t know when I stopped crying. Actually, I don’t know if I ever did. Maybe I’m still crying... 

I still can’t feel my legs. I’m still counting seven fingers on my right hand. I am however, aware of John tucking me up in a blanket, and holding me close to his chest. 

He strokes my hair, leans in close, and says...

“You say the word penguin wrong.”


End file.
